Ode To Labors’ Day

Twas the night before the bridge walk and all through the motel.
Not a creature was stirring that I could tell.

The guest were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of doughnuts danced in their heads.
Lynn with the coffee and me with the tea, were getting ready for the breakfast to be.

Knowing that we had done our best,
We climbed into bed for some much needed rest.

When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash then said to myself don’t be rash.
It is just the guests in the glow of the Mighty Mac getting ready for the big bash.

Off they will go in the pre dawn light quietly disappearing out of sight.

Down to the buses and over the bridge they will be back to raid the fridge.
I will be ready to hear the tales, fill the coffee cups and all will be well.

In the morning when they leave shouts of thank-you will mix with the glee.
I hear them exclaim as they drive out of sight,
See you next year for another three nights!

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