Photo Art by ABBA

Come, my friends
to the table take,
And be perfect Guests
you will make

Leave nothing of yourselves
at the gaping door,
Lest deprived you’ll be
the treasure in the store

This table of ancient days
accept none but the poor;
In poverty we are One,
“Host” and “Guests” no more!

Look at the table spread,
Right food, right light, right cloth,
Or are you too hungry
to hear the whisper soft?

As we partake of this food,
A joke or two to enliven our stay
“Chew this food well,” one say
“It will taste better that way!”

So count your chewing
and drown that merry brew,
Grind your mind in the salt of love
and make your amends anew!

Lovers have, at this table, been slain
for trying to court the moon,
The food on this table ignored
and find their efforts in vain…!

(In memory of precious moments with BM at his dining table).


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