Wandering in the early morning of October nine,
The air of beauty and nature was breathed in tor;
clamoring the beauty of day as it rested the dark night,
Behold! It is the birthday of a father, a boss—a mentor;

The noise of pedestrians, sycophants and critics sounded,
Yet they did not temper with the mind of the learner;
Eking out the glow while penning all, and all that mounted,
Yea! I celebrate the life of a father, a boss—a mentor;

Turning in to a new page, a new dawn and a new age,
In pride I remember him as my role model, my teacher;
Blowing the trumpet against society ills, corruption and rape,
In the face of hate and criticism only becoming stronger;

At two scores and twelve in a nation full of hopeless hope,
And in the midst of gutless, hapless and spineless crowd;
You remain the fortress of rectitude and the beacon of hope,
And yea! Happy birthday Mr. Philipbert Semogai Browne.