Forgotten there upon the floor
Hair ribbons littered by the door
The smell of aftershave so sweet
It taints the taste of breakfast treat.
With crumpled socks all in a heap
Next to the sheets from last night’s sleep
A sorry mess that waits for care
Beside the dresser on the chair.
Because we have a mission here
That visits us just once a year
Our nation’s birth we’ll celebrate
No matter what we shan’t be late !
Claire V. Bogdanos 