By Judy Nathanson
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The Burrow

The house upon this plot of land is old and weather-worn
But rich in character and memories
All of its inhabitants are witch and wizard born
But there ends all their similarities

Diverse is every artifact that one would find inside
And each inhabitant, make no mistake
Arthur Weasley's curiosity he cannot hide
For everything the muggle people make

Molly, his wife, stricter, with a firm but loving hand
Is expert cook and manager indeed
Raising one young witch and six young wizards, understand
She has all of the skills that one could need

The eldest of their children, Bill, breaks curses for a bank
Charlie works with dragons stealthily
Twins, Fred and George hope to sell their every joke and prank
No-nonsense Percy works for the Ministry

Son Ron met best friend Harry and their friendship grew and grew
Though Ron so envies Harry's wealth and fame
Bonds between them strengthened with the perils they lived through
Once you face death, life is not the same

Youngest sister Ginny, oh so vulnerable and meek
Nearly lost her life at school, first year
Harry soon became like second family, so to speak
Adding to the memories made here

The Burrow bursts with energy, from floor to chimney tops
The Chudley Cannons wave from postered walls
The sound of sibling quarrels and a wand that's turning chops
Echo through the doors and down the halls

Crooked outside walls stretch out, more family to hold
Clock hands point to where its members roam
Though poor, it overflows with things you could not buy with gold
The Burrow is so much more than a home!



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