In my chair, atop an old phone book,
I sat as proud as can be.
My first time at the grownup table,
surrounded by company.
I lifted the edge of the table cloth,
and felt the smooth wood beneath.
Solid maple, hand oil rubbed,
I counted eight chairs underneath.
Earlier that day, I heard Gram exclaim,
"It's time to stretch that table."
So, off Grandpa went to the attic,
while Gram toiled over pots and kettles.
Then I watched as Grandpa and Mom,
pulled the table sections out of their sleeves.
You knew it was a special occasion,
when Grandpa put in the table leaves.
For the contest; "Leaves"
Sponsored by Carol Brown