I used to like, when I was small 'The Chimney Sweep' when he did call.
He'd always wear a Funny Hat, his face was always, dirty, black,
He'd have a bundle on his back, beneath his arm, some sticks,
He'd also have an empty sack, a brush some metal clips,
He'd spread a sack, upon the floor, down there, in front, the fire
Then clip another cloth around, the fireplace, with a wire.
Then fastened, to his funny brush, right through the centre he would push,
One stick, and then another one, until his bundle, all had gone
And then he'd say at last to me, 'Just pop outside you'll maybe see'
'Something that's round and spiky, black, a poking from the Chimney Stack'
I'd run outside, and there 'twould be, a poking out for all to see
There always was such jollity, I'm sure, he did it just for me.
Edna M Dolphin
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