Grime under the table cloth
Beneath the fluorescent lights and sterile walls,
Lurks an undercurrent of unspoken strife.
The daggers are kept hidden, the words unsaid,
But the tension is palpable,
A throbbing wound.
For all the forced cordiality,
the animosity seethes underneath.
©?Chitra Arun
A fleeting glance
no need to remove them
Specks, particles, of no import
~ a banquet undone
My grandma did embroidery
And several things she did for me.
Her tablecloths (I have a few)
On holidays must get their due.
Each cross-stitch, sewn by her own hand,
As needles followed her command,
Is neat and perfectly aligned,
Her handiwork and heart entwined.
My table’s set, her cloth in place
And so tonight I will embrace
Her love that I can draw upon
From every stitch, though she is gone.
Grandmother's spotted tablecloth has withstood all the town gossip
and ancestral judgment calls, casually, as it may rest on her mahogany table,
It has been the subject of numerous fables,
An unexpected gift handed down from generation, Granny's affinity to its unusual
colors, patterns and intricacy of art, has made the item one of her favorite parts of the day,
The way it deflects the morning sun light, as the clouds play peek-a-boo,
Oh, the elders may quarrel and have their say about Granny's eccentric ways
and loyalty to a flimsy piece of material, but, only she understands the complicated
serial numbers woven in the much talked about tapestry,
To her, it is more than an adornment for her lightly scarred , antique table,
It is her reason for believing that God truly exists.......
I washed my white lace tablecloth and hung it out to dry
The bleach did the best it could-it was worth the try
'Though no one else can see, the stain still remains
As old as time itself
Stubborn as mildew rot
One false step, one careless word forever etched in time
Travels the universe, endlessly
In search of a place to rest
What would I not give to reverse that step
To retrieve that hateful word
Tread lightly in your daily walk, o'er hills and valleys in between
Plot well your steps and weigh your words
So you'll have nothing to regret, like the
Unkind words carved deeply upon your heart
I wash my white lace tablecloth again, again and again!
~*~
10/09/2007
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.