Dining Table
A lavish dinner has arisen from the depths of cookery,
One blade is too many, one knife can cut and kill.
The food of heaven is a dish too fine, and plenty
Of it is causing the belly to be satisfied, with the mind at ease.
The supper is splendid of course, sumptuous,
So splendid, and it hurts inside the mouth with the tongue.
So much has been fulfilled lately, that I cringe,
And I mutter to myself the illnesses all absent.
A dinner is a food collected by cooks, eaten by heroes,
The many who dine are liking comfort and heat.
The table is abolished as we see it be empty
And more like a table too dirty, once too full.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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