The Boston Room
Much of the world I’ve traveled.
Many a room I’ve seen.
For early morning breakfast,
The Boston Room is keen.
Linens by the window.
Coffee at one’s hand.
Morning papers to fill one’s thoughts.
The Boston Room is grand.
Subtle columns rise on high.
Silver, crystal, china bright
Reflected in the morning light.
Graceful wait staff whisper by.
The empty room doth make one sigh,
Oh where are all the members?
Great and small, and young or old?
Mother, daughter, father, son.
Why is it, they do not come?
Change our way of thinking.
IT in back rooms blinking,
Should calculate
A variable rate
To keep our ship from sinking.
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