Perhaps Another Idle Lunch

We pick up bite sized morsels,
as fingers dip into lemon scented bowls,
'the candlelight, my dear, sublime,
an elephant in its lifetime
could flood the plains of Africa'.

The waiter with a stained towel;
he spilt the wine, it leaves
a mark upon the pristine cloth.
He orders Chateau-Maison,
I rub salt into the blemished spot.

We listen to the burble of other
diners, bubbles bursting over lunch,
I wonder what le petit dejeuner
would offer, smoked salmon Benedict
with an after taste of kippers.

The hyacinths bought cheap
have yet to show their colour,
a man in corduroy and velvet
berates the lady running late
she mouthes an unseen apology ~

I think as idly I play with the stem
that the contents of this cheap excuse
could be poured quite amply
upon his balding melon head,
instead of hair transplants and such
a miracle cure for men with alopecia.

I notice that the stain looks just like
a monkey playing jazz,
you nod, as you always do
in total, amicable agreement.
Well fed, we smile, pay the tariff
and amble happily away.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 491 times
Written on 2014-01-17 at 18:02

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Ivan R
Life, as it happens, anecdotes from the moment,
the prose in this wonderful short story is astonishing,
such a great play of words in the great stage of life,
this wonderful poem is every playwrights dream, the way you did it, as a wonderful poem, to be admired

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Another amusing, satisfying meal. I especially enjoyed "bubbles bursting over lunch."

I do like this, the humour, esp the bit about the excuses and the bald head:)

Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Such a random luncheon mon Ami
Read with a hint of indie gestion.
And the alopecia entree how absurd. :_D