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In the hallway, coats align,
A welcome mat says, “You’re just fine.”
The wooden door swings open wide,
This is the house where I reside.
The living room is full of cheer,
A sofa cozy, always near.
The coffee table, small but strong,
Holds books and candles all day long.
The kitchen bustles, pots in hand,
The dining table seats the band.
The fridge is stocked, the oven bakes,
The kettle sings when morning wakes.
Tripsteps makes it fun to see,
From attic high to balcony.
Learning words comes naturally,
Each one connects so easily.
The bedroom calls with a soft bed,
Where pillows lie beneath my head.
The wardrobe stands, its doors ajar,
With clothes inside from near and far.
The bathroom shines with tiles so clean,
A bathtub there for every scene.
The mirror hangs above the sink,
The shower flows, it makes me think.
The laundry room with its machine,
Keeps clothes so fresh, so pure, so clean.
An ironing board, a drying rack,
Helps with tasks, no looking back.
Tripsteps makes it clear each day,
From chimney tall to garden play.
Learning terms for every part,
Builds my home within my heart.
The study holds a desk and chair,
A quiet space beyond compare.
With bookshelves lined from wall to wall,
A place to think and have it all.
The attic stores our precious things,
Old boxes, treasures, childhood wings.
The basement cool, a secret space,
Where tools and memories find their place.
From windows wide to floors of stone,
From walls that echo to spaces grown,
Each word I learn becomes my own,
Describing every part of home.