Is the one sheltering the home.
Home is where the heart is.
I'm sure I hear you groan.
But moaning is for floorboards.
That bend underfoot.
If the pillars are golden.
Then sure will be your tread.
Oil is fit for tractors.
And stubborn barn hinge.
But keep away from fires.
And delicate linen!
Chickens all for cooping.
And axing on the block.
But take that ax to the house.
And sure you will be not.
This rhyme could go forever.
But surely it will not.
For this is the end of the silly verse.
I hear you cry please stop!
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