The Table

As a child I sat beneath my grandmother’s table And listened to the stories and whispers Of all who gathered 'round If mom was in a really good mood A cover could go over and make it into The most exciting of hideaways As I got older my friends would gather 'round To watch me blow the candles from a birthday cake The streamers, the noisy horns The spills dripping down the middle It became the place of games Cards and much fun And sometimes a wee bit too much competition But always Laughter and friends It’s the place the women stay And discuss everyone, everything After dinner and football is on It’s the office Mail in stacks waiting to be dealt with The weekly writing of checks It’s the place my children have gathered To pound play dough Stir brownies Carve pumpkins Do homework Paint masterpieces And blow out their own candles