In the hum of the house on erev Yom Tov's eve, A symphony of tasks weave what we must achieve. The oven hums its warmth in the baking spree, Pots clatter in chorus with bustling glee. The broom's swift dance waltzes across the floor, While bags brim with shopping, carried through the door. Yet, amid this whirlwind, the iron stands, Grasped in weary but determined hands. When strength wanes, and energy feels spent, A small gift of gratitude, with heartfelt intent, From husband Yossi, a quiet thanks unfurls, Turning tasks to blessings, smooth as the ironed whirls. May the simmering kitchen, the cleaned, cared-for space, Bloom into joy, and in its warmth, embrace, A Simchas Yom Tov, where love brightly beams, In moments stitched together, like cherished dreams.