Russell was a whirlwind Scott
Who came one Thursday noon.
He left after five days' stay,
And oh! that was much too soon.

His visit leavened many things,
Not least our painting skills.
Sourdough Bread, of course, was baked;
Cakes cooled on window sills.

We learnt to 'sit' while he painted;
In an hour portraits were done.
So was the Torte Bourbonnais:
Glad I don't have to rhyme that one!

Ali, Lisa and Emma were present
In the absence, so to speak:
We look forward to the time when
They, too, can be here for a week.

A month, of course would be better:
There's so much to learn and to share.
But till such time as they travel here,
Letters should travel by air.

One can go on in this vein for ever;
The poet's art is knowing when to stop.
The cake that is folded lightly
Is sure not to be a flop.