Twas the night before friday and all through the house
Not a worry was stirring, the two girls on the couch
One fell asleep to familiar songs
While the other plucked strings, at last nothing was wrong.
Soon they would dream of the following morn,
When a lost girl they'd finally get to adorn
With her very own bed and a basket of things,
With new clothes and the warmth that a loving home brings.
They tossed and they turned, but not out of fright;
No, they couldn't sleep still for excitement all night.
For the King, He would surely arrive to escort
His once forgotten daughter with an angelic cohort.
And when she stepped foot in their humble abode
They'd catch sight of the edge of the King's royal robe.
Would the brilliance of His cloak send them away blind?
Though it steal away sight, they could not help not mind
For the King comes tomorrow, and His beloved guest,
May we bow at His feet and give her our best.