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Would You Love Me

This Mountain Called Moriah


This Battles Not Mine

Dancing between the Raindrops

Ode To Dr Phil

Facsimile Of Death

Disposable People

Fools Gold

This Mountain Named Moriah

Images Can Lie

This Battles Not Mine.

What If God?

Butterfly Fly

As The Candle Dances

The Enemy Within

Long Dark Night [ Conclusion ]

Long Dark Night [ 3 ]

Long Dark Night [ Part 2 ]

Long Dark Night [ episode one ]

When Faith Meets Fear

Sleepless In Tulsa

Cold White Prison

This Old Book

Your Silky Beard

Baby Doe

Only One Calvary


If This Old Table Could Talk

Sarah's Seashells

My, but didn't It Rain.

Memories Fragrance

More Poetry >>

If  This  Old  Table  Could  Talk

If  this  old  table  could  talk, the  stories  it
might  tell  would  captivate  you, anger  you, cause
tears  to  sting  your  eyes  and  warm  your  heart
through  and  through.

It  had  been  the  perfect  table  for  their  lovely  dining
room, where  she  now  found  herself  most  nights  alone  with  a
plate  of  cold  food  before  her, at  the  other  end  of  the
table  sat  an  empty  chair  and  place  setting, the  plans
she'd  made  for  intimate  dinners  with  flickering  candle
light  and  her  handsome  young  husband, now  echoed  off
silent  walls, his  road  to  success  did  not  detour  at  home,
they  eventually  had  one  child  who  was  sent  to  boarding
school, her  Father  far  too  busy, her  mother  to  numb  from
alcohol  to  care.

The  daughter  sold  the  home's  furnishings  after  her
father  died  of  a  heart  attack  brought  on  by  exhaustion,
where  three  months  earlier   her  mother  was  found  dead  at
the  table  with  a  drink  in  her  hand, the  table  held
no  special  memories  for  this  young  woman, nor  sadly,
did  the  passing  of  her  parents.

A  husband  bought  the  table  as  an  anniversary  gift
for  his  wife, her  joy  could  not  be  contained, she
ran  her  hands  over  the  rich  wood  and  elegant  edges
of  the  table  long  after  everyone  was  asleep
their  three  children, parents, aunts, uncles  and
a  slew  of  cousins  gave  thanks  over  feasts  of  turkey
and  all  the  trimmings  at  thanksgiving  and  Christmas,
baked  ham  on  Easter, wonderful  birthday  parties  and
always  the  laughter  and  warmth  of  a  loving  family.

The  table  was  now  old  and  had  certainly  seen  better  days
with  one  very  wobbly  leg  and  all  the  finish  gone, it  sat  on
the  curb  waiting  for  the  disposal  truck, a  man  and  his  wife
were  driving  by  when  the  old  table  caught  her  eye  she
 insisted  her  husband  stop  and  put  it  in  the  back  of  their
 truck, once  home  it  was  placed  in  a  corner  of  their  garage,
her  husband  still  wondering  what  she  wanted  with  a  piece
of  worthless  furniture.

She  began  spending  all  her  spare  time  in  the  garage,
humming  as  she  painstakingly  sanded, varnished, waxed
and   repaired, she knew  if  this  old  table  could  talk
the  stories  it  might  tell, but  then  the  table  had  many
silent stories to tell, J P and R L, true love forever
was scratched into a middle edge, what appeared to have
been  a  pooling  of  teardrops  had  left  their  telltale
markings  on  one  end, as  she sanded, she  was  sure  she
could  smell  the  aroma  of  baked  ham, under  the  table  she
found  what  appeared  to  be  bits  of  petrified  gum, far  enough
from  the  edge  so  mom  wouldn't  discover  it  and  forgotten  with
shouts  of  summer  fun  drifting  in  on  the  breeze  outside
the  window.

Yes, if  this  old  table  could  only  talk, the  tales it
 would  tell...  

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If This Old Table Could Talk



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