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We’ve gathered together, and Mom’s made a great meal.
My sister and I do the dishes; it’s part of the deal.

At first we grumble the kitchen is all messed.
But, as our parents are in talking with our guests,

We start in to wash. My sister and I are growing so close,
With talking and listening and sometimes a boast.

We remember old times as we’ve been growing up,
And of plans for future happenings soon to erupt.

The dish-washing chore is really not so bad,
For sharing and bonding is making us so glad.

Too soon it seems we have to hang up the towels,
But more than sisters, we’re feeling like pals

(c) Copyright by Jean E. Gorney  
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Poetry.com 4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
Gale Johnson More than 1 year ago
Love family poems always touching
Alan Green 'Guppyman' More than 1 year ago
the poet speaks of sister kin love
Ofuonyebi 'Dinobi More than 1 year ago
good write...well done
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