by GFLee
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by GFLee
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At the opening of the plaza Ladies cut cherry cake The minister cut the ribbon That ran around the lake The big black cars in single file Hurried across the lawn And the rain clouds in the eastern sky Gathered into a storm Officials with tarpaulins ran From the foyer to the hall Avoiding each others glances As large drops began to fall The guests they ran for cover Holding plates above their heads The minister's speech could not be heard For the rushing of the air The chairman with a heavy breath Peered into the sky Said I think we better call it off While the cocktails are still dry No sooner had he spoken than The thunderhead did sound Overhead the heavens opened up And the rain cascaded down Coffee and the crème awash The banquet struck with blight Wheels of fine and spinning in The dotage of the night For seven days and nights it rained It seemed like seven years They spent their time while playing cards And electing volunteers And now the plaza is in disrepair The lake is cracked and dry The sun beats down so fiercely That it’s painful to the eye And the ladies and the gentlemen Present on that day Rapidly declined to hell And wasted clean away
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