Is cluttered safe away
And all the toys, those playful joys,
Must wait another day.
Our guests have gone, they're far away
They've left us on our own
With quiet rooms, dull afternoons,
We're empty, all alone.
But 'neath the sofa, on the rug
We find they've left some gear.
A sock or two, a Lego piece
And other items dear.
To pack these up and send them back
Is slamming the front door
On memories - that ghostly fizz -
Of guests that we adore.
Much better then to set aside
These relics of the week
Against that time, that happy time
They're back on Mylor creek.
