'Twas a few weeks before Christmas, when all through the open house
Not a buyer was stirring, not even a mouse;
The for sale sign had been hung in the front yard with care,
In hopes that a buyer soon would be there;
The owners were headed to their new destination,
With hopes that an offer would come to fruition.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my window to see what was the matter.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But the Realtor and Stager and all of their staging gear,
With a little old driver, so lively and strong,
I knew in a moment this would not take long.
From the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now put it away! Put it away! Put it away all!
A wink of the eye and a twist of the head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
After rearranging and decluttering, they turned with a jerk
Their work here was done,
And soon the buyers they would come!
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them exclaim as they drove out of sight.
"Happy Selling to all, and to all a good-night."
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