Long table long, long table
With shabby, torn cloth
Clean
And
Beautiful
It was
And beautiful were you
The men with their false teeth
Eating as well
As any
Could
And the dishes
Prepared in love
As only one could
For such
And to your likening
Others did come to join
And all could join
Any and all
And that was our beauty
Free and fancy free
With the smell
Of clean
The smell of old
And the presence
Of the new
So, new
That we did not know
Our treat
Our place
At your table
And stories of old
And of lengthy exaggeration
Were they
But not you
Plain and simple were you
To invite
To each night
Early night
Indeed
With fashion
From the old generation
Cooking from scratch
And manners that have sense gone
Astray
To most
To many
The smell
The smell
Still remains
Reminiscent
Installed in permanence
Place
In my mind
Of all that was good
And
That long, long table
And
That table…
Where all were welcome
Stray cat
And fancy cat
Old
Young
And those who had
And of those that did not
All
Belonged
At your fancy feast table
And
All were happy
There
If only
There…