I am getting ready to go away for a few days, and my hand might have accidentally slipped into the biscuit tin due to the stress of packing. Before you know it - a poem popped up too!

The biscuits in the tin, 
Were making quite a din.
Betting who'd be sacked.
Betting who'd be packed.
The Holiday Tub
Was an Exclusive Club.
Bourbons in for sure!
Shortbread gave a roar. 
Hobnobs, not a doubt. 
What with all that clout. 
And as for Custard Cream,
S'all part of the dream.
What about Ginger Nuts?
They don't get many Tuts.
What about Jaffa Cakes?
Nah, they're nowt but Fakes!
And as for Jammie Dodgers,
They're practically the Lodgers. 
Excuse me, said Wagon Wheel. 
I think it's time for a Deal. 
The lid came up.
And up they shut.
As tiny hands came down.
And began to scoot around.