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Guests.
Oh honey brush your hair,
Can you sweep,
Then put back the chairs?
Put your toys in their box,
This house is a mess,
Clean the windows and clocks,
Let’s try and look our best.
Any minute they’ll be here,
so clean up this grime,
Is that them at the door,
How I wish we had time,
To clean up more.
Come in,
It’s so cold,
And your coats look so thin,
She’s got tall, how old,
When I saw her last, she wasn’t up to my chin.
Now children go play,
Let the grownups talk,
I made a cake, but I’m afraid that it’s taste may,
Resemble chalk.
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An poem I wrote a little while back about the chaos of getting ready for guests.