I sat upon the bedroom floor
All bent, an awkward stance,
I’d rather use the table
But it only took a glance
To see the small dog’s moulting
And so, almost everywhere,
In spite of all my efforts
Is still sprinkled with her hair.

Now chiffon isn’t easy
It attracts the stuff you see,
And if I tried to sew downstairs
She’d want to come and see…
I thought the bedroom better,
It would have to be the floor…
And just make sure and certain
That I’d closed the downstairs door…

The Silent Eye is busy
With a workshop coming up,
When tears from Horus’ golden Eye
Will fill a royal cup…
The Cobra’s Eye is watching
With a mind to plot and scheme
But as with any story
Things aren’t always what they seem…

Tonight though, is a different game
As costumes must be sewn;
I need some help…