Each night after the evening meal
there was never a discussion
as to who would wash the dishes
and who would do the drying up.
My mother was the washer,
my sister and I did the drying up.
Hot steam would rise from the sink
before plates were plunged
deep in foam and scrubbed
with a brush - we would wait,
tea towel in hand to pounce
on the first plates to come out,
rinsed and white -
dishes were easier to dry
than heavy pots
and fiddly knives and forks.
It was a time for talk, for laughs
and sometimes snuffled back tears -
everyday life lived within the space
of our touching elbows.
I can still feel the tea towel
in my hand wet and warm
with those blessed memories.
Seventy years on, I bend down
and load the racks of a dishwasher
with soiled tableware from
the evening meal. Its quiet whirr
will fill the winter silence
and play a soulless ditty when
the washing and drying up
is done.
You sit at the table, waiting;
Conjoined with fancy silk linen;
Golden tapestry tableware;
Customly so fitting
Welcome to the table
Come sit down sup wit Jesus
Walk down the altar Just As You Are;
Sin where are tapestries you wear;
You need not be ashamed how you fair;
Look not at what people say;
Please, stay you're welcome;
Come sit down, don't be mistaken;
You're welcome here sit at the table;
And with the creator, you're forgiven;
Come as you are sit, dine at the table;
You are so welcome...
5/25/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
My auspicious Holiday Muse,
it has a hunger pang...
A pen which merrily sings of words,
joyously written in the heart
Honored friends and guests
invited freely
to a feast of thoughts
Etiquette tableware articulation
is succulently presented:
Romantic spooning
lovingly receives
a lip passion dipped
extra helping
Fork tongue behavior
gracefully parse admonished ...
Moist apology napkins passed
hand-to-hand, are sure to
both give-and-take receive
a double blessing portion
Rational wit is the knife
that cuts this well-deserved,
bountiful ponder platter
Tasteful thoughts are worth
twice returning for
All are consumed by fiery debate:
Enlightened rumination slow roasting
on an elevated, rotating spit
The more flame exposed,
the more tender
the meat of the conversation get
The hearth of the heart
warmly contemplate
delectable morsels well reasoned
Toasts of love are ambrosia divine,
as is the
meditative digestion silence time
Pen sated is about the gut gist of it
Just deserts for everyone,
I do ink insist
You've been hiding from me long enough
Now I'm willing to take with me
Anyone willing to go after you
To close the hate I have for you in a cup
Sweetened with my no
To polish my tableware clean
Baby, baby, maybe I was just a baby
Now I'm waiting for you to puke
everything that you took
In order to show me that you care
You sleep with my skull
Underneath your pillow
Everything's funny till you're the one crying
All my hate in a cup
Sweetened with my no
Now polish them clean
Tick tock
Your perversion burnt my skin
And now I'm coming for you
And I'm coming for you slowly
My fire is cold
All my hate in a cup
Sweetened with my no
Now polish them clean
Tick tock
At this point I'm willing to pray to any God
Willing to take from you what you have stolen from me
Let me burn a sacrifice
That sickens your mind
Listen to my voice
Tick tock
We brought ghosts of the past into our playground
And now in order to show me that you care
You sleep with my skull underneath your pillow
But everything's funny till you're the one crying
As I stand by the kitchen window I must say
My chin against my chest spent from working all day
Warm wet soapsuds adhere to my hands as I pray
Washing the seasoned tableware, running away
Unfasten thoughts of daily drudgery workday
An incredible tranquil moment sets at bay
As I gaze out and see the caramel gateway
The sun’s glow starts to wane at a distance array
Warm honey caramel bathed yard melting a way
Freezing out my emotions from the day to day
Reality dream walking through a hue archway
A fond moment stolen in time beside me lay
1/15/2017
Green, spruce tree with ornaments to spare
Turquoise lights gleam and brightly flare
Crimson stockings are bulging with a sweeter fare
Purple, velvet bows spliced on presents with care
Blue garlands hung de rigueure
Bronze crèche our faith to bare
Chartreuse curtains with glittering trim rim our festive lair
White, twinkling lights border each burgundy stair
Safron, satin pillows delicately line each sofa and chair
Black, porcelain lacquerware liberally distributed, pomp and circumstance to declare
Oranges and apples with waxy glint in gilded fruit bowl adds flair
Golden calabria accentuates the tableware
Silver platters glisten and glare
Platinum cutlery paired for the hallowed affair
Yellow, spicy nog with all our guests we'll share
Who taught the fish to swim,
in garden's pond.
Who paiinted the flower's gloriour colors,
showing them dances on the lawn.
Who captured fluffy clouds,
and tied them in the air.
Who pasted the universe overhead,
shining on God's tableware.
Who made the fuzzy worm crawl this day,
on highways of wood.
Who spun the birds propeller, lent him wing,
sent him on his way.
Who shuts the sunshine off at night,
pours moonbeams on the ground.
Who drew the trees with hight and leaves,
to shade a little town.
Who'd do a wonderous thing like that,
neither I nor you.
Who sculptured all the people with love,
God's artistry, that's who.