Table Poems - Poems about Table

old table sitting across from one another words spoke what their eyes already knew and the thoughts in her mind so freely poured like cascading water in a pool of pure blue they talked and laughed about yesterday as if yesterday had a name of its own and made plans to last beyond forever yet they knew forever would soon be gone painted with...

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her eyes . her eyes stole me away the look distant engaging darting but always blue . sometimes i wondered what they had seen how such beauty could see pain suffering shed tears . i looked she looked we saw the future two glances dancing a collision course across a table for two while our eyes made us one tolbert ...

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Trailing, doubts arise, Then a spark, the tide will turn, New lead takes the court. ©bfa042425 ...

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At his wife he shouted: I’ve had my fill; your cooking gets first prize for swill. Why, it isn’t even fit for a hungry pig. Is that why, she shouted, you down big and bigger portions, and why your nose dives blindly into it and disappears? Wake up, porky. What do you suppose I’ve been feeding all these years?...

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table set for two sitting waiting by the phone endless night posted April 22, 2025...

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“There’s a cow at the table,” I whispered, not wanting to be rude. It’s horns curled like question marks, which seemed quite Apropos Now that I’ve been to college, I can tell you, there’s a lot that I don’t know. But a cow at the table, no matter how well dressed, left me, well, confused. “How do you Dooooo?”...

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Turnips are delicious, Turmeric is tasty: Tartlets are officious, Truffles make for hasty Toss-ups. It seems vicious, Turbot served in pasty Titbits. It’s pernicious! ...

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i found the perfect little table in the perfect cozy corner in the perfect quirky bistro in the perfect part of town as i head out on my merry way they may as well cordon off the area 'cause when i get there ~ god help anyone who may be sitting in that spot posted on April 15, 2025...

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It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women. Joy Harjo her poem Perhaps the World Ends Here Supper Table There was a time when the supper table was a gathering place. A time when children and parents sat down together. A time when television, computers, cell phones didn’t...

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You wont need the table of love What was meant to be was put through the letter box You truly broke my heart in two You've lost your tears of joy and lifted a heart of stone like a medal of spinsters honour See me through the broken rain My misery wont leave me alone I beg of you for things that needed to be...

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The crack of a twig..' Some snickers, there's natter.' Double cream underJam with seeds; just homely feeds.' A duck on a piano, under willow fronds in Devon; England.'...

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It is twenty two o’clock in time Where days without numbers drop A pocket watch falls with broken hands Lost, out of sync with reality There where winds breath in shadows Consumed by the sun’s last light Taking secrets where they may go Into insanity where reason goes There in the...

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It is twenty two o’clock in time Where days without numbers drop A pocket watch falls with broken hands Lost, out of sync with reality There where winds breath in shadows Consumed by the sun’s last light Taking secrets where they may go Into insanity where reason goes There in the...

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The kitchen table was the centerpoint of childhood, a place of gathering, an easel for artworks, battleground for homework and Eden for the creation of lifeforms moulded from plasticine. It was the Formica altar on which daily meals were celebrated, a patch of the real, ground zero for tears and laughter and a bench for my mother to cut fabric into shapes from...

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Set the table with festive cheer for all our loved ones no longer here Set them a plate and pour them a Sherry They would want us to celebrate, to be festive and merry Don’t wallow in sorrow for they are not near Turn to your memories and hold those dear Don’t be downhearted for those departed That’s...

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