THE HOUSE

there once was this sorry old house,

Vacant, except for one very small mouse,

That spent all his days getting soused

On fermented grapes. He would joust

With neighborhood cats, but the spouse

of the fellow next door, one day taking note

and wielding a broom they were smote

And you might say, that’s all she wrote.

One day the old house got a new coat

of fresh paint the color of oat;

A sign went up on the front lawn,

With the name of a man to call on.

For realtors came, the price was a song,

and I was the one who happened along,

With the help of a loan officer named John,

I signed all the documents to make it mine.

It was like a treasure one might find,

although there were thousands of papers to sign,

My name and the date on each dotted line,

When we moved in, we took down the “FOR SALE” sign.

Sandra Lee Smith

Written July 23, 2009/Remembering Thanksgiving weekend, 2008

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