Long Table Poems
Long Table Poems. Below are the most popular long Table by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Table poems by poem length and keyword.
Our very life's true gifts
They become deeply touched
Honored by those around us the blessing
Measured inside good deeds radiate gem purity
Flowers in the meadows solely beloved
Served at a round table equally grace shares
Called upon the royal seals approval bows
Unconditional always holds truth bonded
United under a white flag halo of unity
Carried with one dove fig of Eden grows strong
Hope changes to a golden path paved with jewels
Forged upon the walls adorning seed grows
Painted with ink light shades over darkness
Crimson signs our heavenly deal sacred
An open book loves even those filled with hate
In the end we all join hands together loved
Walk with me my Love
Beneath the summer sun
Talk with me my Love
Until the evening's done.
Stay with me my Love
Though all my youth be fled
Stay with me my Love
Please come and share my bed.
With you alone I chose to spend my life
Through all its many years.
'Tis you alone I'd have for wife
To share its joys and tears.
Let's call a spade a spade
All cards upon the table.
Live by the rules we made
The best that we are able.
Tomorrow's sun may bring Anything
Or perhaps nothing at all.
Listen close enough and angels sing
As summer raindrops fall.
Laugh with me my Love
Stars shining on your face.
Dance with me my Love
Within the night's embrace.
A raven sits in withered tree
Shall we stop to hear him croak?
What of him to you or me
Tomorrow is yet smoke.
Dream with me my Love
In the fading morning's dark.
Scheme with me my Love
In time we'll make our mark.
The bells within the chapel ring
Read words writ on a wall.
Snowgeese gather on the wing
As winter raindrops fall.
Play with me my Love
Singing in the rain.
Smile with me my Love
Begone all present pain.
Live with me my Love
Until we both grow old.
Sleep with me my Love
My shelter from the cold.
I'm all right now what I might be
With your love in my defense.
We face a thousand mysteries
This life makes little sense.
We face what ere the future brings
We heed the Siren's call.
Touch the clouds and angels sing
As summer raindrops fall.
Meeting someone who still believes in the goodness of humanity feels almost mythical in a world that has taught her to trust only what lies north of her own borders. She grew up with the nation above her as her reference point — its language, its culture, its shadow. And yet, when she looked at me, there was no hesitation, no fear of difference. There was only curiosity, the kind that bridges continents without needing permission.
I spoke to her in Italian, the language of my grandparents, the language that still carries the warmth of Sunday kitchens and old-country stories. She answered in Spanish, soft and melodic, like she was letting me into a world she didn’t offer to just anyone. Somehow, between her Spanish and my Italian, we found a rhythm — two languages dancing around each other, meeting in the middle like they had been waiting for this moment.
She was adorable in the way she tried to make the conversation work. At one point she typed in Spanish and let Google translate it into English, laughing at the robotic voice that didn’t match her sweetness. I should have kissed her then — not out of impulse, but out of recognition. Recognition that something rare was happening. Recognition that this was one of those moments that could have rewritten the rest of my life.
If I had taken that step, maybe we would have started a conversation that didn’t end. Maybe we would have walked a path that led us down an aisle instead of back to our separate lives. An Italian American man and a Mexican mamasita — two worlds meeting not by accident, but by alignment.
I imagine the life that could have followed: a home filled with the aromas of both cultures, a table where Italian hand gestures met Mexican warmth, children who carried the bloodlines of Italy, Hungary, Spain, and Mexico all in one heartbeat. A new generation shaped by Western grit and Southwestern soul, a living testament to the beauty of crossing borders — not with passports, but with hearts.
It’s strange how a single moment can hold the weight of an entire future. Stranger still how easily it can slip away.
But even now, when I think of her, I don’t feel regret as much as I feel possibility — the reminder that connection doesn’t need perfection, only courage. And maybe next time, I won’t let the moment pass.
Night dreams. From whence do they come?
Night dreams. To where are they going?
Night dreams. Perhaps from daily thoughts;
Surface as well as sub-conscience
Ones. They come and they go. We have
No say. And sometimes, we interpret them;
Some interested ones may even label them.
But most times, we simply table them.
Daydreams: Retain and don't let go.
Daydreams: They embrace and consume us.
Daydreams: Are they not inhaled, or inspired?
Daydreams: Others may never understand them.
Daydreams: If they point toward your destiny;
If your Master gave them to you;
Do not allow yourself to be penalized;
But internalize your daydreams, giving
Them to your Maker. Through you, He will
Use them for His own glory and purpose.
112722PSCtest, Don't Quit Your Daydreams.
she is an exquisite dinner
awakens taste with beguiling smiles
a platter of kindness
wrapped in delicate crepes
lips that promise
a selection of wines
set for any course you so desire
a delicate glass never empty
a macedoine salad
stolen from the garden
of some goddess
a bewitching soup
dipped from a cauldron
enchantment in every spoon
that reaches the palate
fruits that have come from far
and forbidden shores
an intoxicating sweetness that consumes
all of the senses
and finally the piece de resistance
what drove Greek sculptors to stone
she is sitting across the table
OKC 06/22
Down dusty dirt track
there was the winery
A rusty tin shed.
"Petulant Fandango"
It said on the sign
"Gidday anyone Home?"
"Hello, there,
sorry I didn't hear you come."
With that we stepped inside.
Five folk were already there.
It looked like a party
rather than tasting as such.
The old wooden table was covered in
wine bottles, which like the guests,
were in various states of fullness.
No tiny tasting glasses here,
full size wine goblets were the go.
"What are you after"
"What tickles your fancy"
"I'd like to try a dry, dry red please"
Shiraz if you have one."
"No worries I have just the drop"
"Give this a Go"
With that a thick black-red wine was poured
from a dusty bottle covered with gossamer spider web
into a glass, a tad dusty as well.
With first sip the wine made me pucker my lips
as the wine sucked all the water from inside my mouth
instantly dry, dry, dry.
"What do you think of that one Mate?"
You're right its certainly dry!
Bit like paint stripper I thought.
With that, I joined the party
to try some of the other wines
all with their unique terroir
of rough, dusty, earthiness to the fore.
I left a little tipsy after buying
several bottles of their best vintage
destined to be use in cooking.
Nice day tasting dusty terroir.
A foggy Cuervo morning
I crawl out of my bed
Stagger to the bathroom
With a pounding in my head
It’s just another Sunday
Things can’t get much worse
I think i’ll write a poem
Yes, another drunken verse
Tiny glass of 80 proof
What courage you gave me
To dance upon a table
While crooning karaoke
I truly thought that I could sing
I could hear the people cheer
Then I lost my footing
And fell right on my rear
Now falling off of tables
Isn't really all that dumb
Cause I got such a chuckle
Telling everyone to kiss my bum
I kissed a man I didn’t know
You think that’s absurd
Well his wife was rather angry
When I flipped her the big ol bird
When Jose takes control of me
I have no pride or shame
Doesnt really matter much
Cause no one knows my name
I drank until the wee hours
Things were going great
Until that final shot of gold
That sealed my eveings fate
I spent some time talking
On a ice cold porceline phone
If I survive this night
Tomorrow I will atone
Well today is tomorrow
So forgive me for my sin
Never again will I drink tequila
Instead I’m drinking gin
Form:
That day, I was on my scale, thought I was fat?
Till I realized, i was holding two, five pound cats!
Scales are deadly, for women, it is proven true.
Use a tape measure instead, to be gorgeous you.
Mens’ weight, seems to move as easily as a cloud.
While ours seems immovable, like an iron clad shroud.
My despicable scale was put away in a deep, dark closet.
I measured my body parts, got thin, so do try it?
Went from a size sixteen to a size seven?
Was so grateful and thought I really was in heaven!
It’s been thirty seven years of pure bliss.
I think my tape measure deserves a honorable kiss.
Your fork, must alas, be given a long rest.
Leaving the table, and exercise, is a character test!
2/7/2023
What a small room - my finger traces dust across the plain table.
What did Grandma DO here? I glance around for electrical sockets - none to be seen.
Her life was spent staring out the window, at 3D life, but only seeing memories.
I go to the wall and test the switch
a bare light bulb illuminates an area with a hot plate.
"Jesus", I mumble.
Why would she live in this shabby room?
Was this a punishment? Like a place where a nun would live?
No, *I self correct in my mind* Gramma was the sweetest person on earth.
I walk three steps, twirl and flop on my back, on the bed.
Dust explodes off the bare mattress in the sunlight
slanting through the grimy, half-open, shade-less window.
I wave and blow the dust away and now I'M lost in memory..
She was ninety-three - I never heard her say an unkind word
In that tiny, sand-papery whisper of a voice.
She always wanted me to sit in her lap, she wanted to brush my hair.
From 10 on I was bigger than she was and afraid I'd break her.
"Don't you worry over ME", she'd say with a chuckle, "I'm an old piece of leather."
Her cheeks were pink and wrinkled like old rose petals. Her hair a white bun.
"I miss you Gramma", I whisper.
2025.1.26
It is Australia day, congratulations.
There were so many different opinions.
National day or Devided day?
Celebrate the Country or
Morn the Invasion's history?
To avoid the political heated debates
I headed to Sorrento beautiful bay,
To soak up the warm sun's ray,
and let the winds softly brushed my face.
The Sun shined high in the blue sky,
The white clouds danced and drifted away slowly.
The waves swayed rhymthly with the sea breeze.
I climbed up to the St Paul's Look Out,
The 360° uninterrupted view around me.
Providing a breath taking panorama view.
Down the long path timber steps,
I walked along the Coppins track.
The low tides helped exposing many sea rocks' surfaces,
Flat, layered, rough and smooth plateau.
Which normally covered by the sea water.
In the bottom of the sea baths.
The waves rushed in and swiped
All the objects on their paths,
Once the water spreaded evenly,
At the edge of each rock's surface,
As the sea water poured down,
Small water falls liked were formed.
Just like the table cloths would drop.
Slowly, I reached Jubilee Point.
A magnificent coast line and beaches run side by side.
Facing the water, the Sphrinx on my far right,
Diamond Bay was just on the other side.
Diamond like glittered on the surface of the water.
Not far away, the timber stairs path,
Led to the Bays of Island.
Australia, especial in Victoria,
With large lushed lands, deep blue oceans,
We should form one country.
I had a wonderful and peaceful day.
I let the political debates behind,
Kept someone out of my mind.