To someone who will not read this

but who had, I hope, a happy day none the less.

Once you were two, dear birthday friend,
In spite of purple weather.
But now you are three and near the end
As we grewsome together.

How fourthful thou, forsooth for you,
For soon you will be more.
But 'fore one can be three be two;
Before be five be four.

-- Walt Kelly

And, no, it isn't supposed to make sense. It's just ol' Walt playing with words.

(From a collection of Walt Kelly's poetry at Language Hat.)