Red Rose and Chardonnay
A dinner with chardonnay
Plates of love whilst piano play
A love song of long ago.
She sat by the table
A hands folded like napkin in array
And red roses on the table
Of two love birds
Today are their anniversary.
She excused herself
As the waiter arranged the table.
Today is their day
But her lover has another.
She waited for an hour
For he promised to surrender
The love he has for her.
She begged him not to part
But…he’s not here.
Nor his shadow emerged
Red rose and chardonnay
are now abandoned- by the table.
She exits in the moonless sky.
poem by Tess Rockenstire
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Related quotes
A Table For Two!
Flash of dream overcome me
as I took slumber one night
I saw a romantic setting
lies a set of table for two
A bouquet of red roses
decorate at the center
where a bottle of red wine
completes the table for two
I saw you entered the haven
dressed in rainbow colored suit
your face so pretty with a smile
as we kissed at the table for two
Mesmerized by your countenance
I was filled with romantic stance
as we danced to the tune of love
such so divine at the table for two
Awaken at height of joy
I am filled with inspiration
as today it becomes a reality
a table for two on Valentines day
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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Food On My Table
Come and see the food on my table,
For it is prepared for you and me;
And, i am waiting for you in the room of my love.
Life is full of surprises and i want to show you my love,
And here comes the sun of the morning to touch your heart;
For, it is right for you to be beside me at this table.
The food on my table,
As soon as you receive my letter means that i love you;
For life is full of surprises and i want your love,
So come and let us share this food on my table.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A loving dinner
Story: One evening, they came home late
Mom, cooking dinner in a speedy craze
Asked: Help me to set the table, please?
There comes her sweetheart:
Zdring! ! Zdrang! ! Zdrong!
Shaking the sfrrr
sfrrr frying pan,
Mom cries out:
'LOVE! '
The daughter,
with the plates
in her hand, freeze
Dad's nose came out
from the newspaper wondering
Smiling, mom said: ~With love, my dears:
'All things that on our table come,
With love and kindness handled are.'
That evening? Oh, yes indeed,
they had one of the most beautiful
ever meals.
poem by Elena Sandu
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A Modest Table
A Modest Table
The table is like a flag wrapped little coffin
only it is not a flag of hubris and nationality,
but a cloth with roses, sewed by a woman
with time at hand and love in her heart.
The table is rough hewn but solid it will not
suffer illnesses of old age, but perhaps get
wood-worms.
It will last longer than I will, till new owners
will throw it on the dump or break it up and
use it as firewood a cold winter night.
In the meantime, as we wait, I rest my feet on
it when watching TV.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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An Ode for David
Inspiration
From a lopsided table?
Words written down
Told as a fable
Strange request you have
My dear friend
Inspiration I will find
This I do intend
Wooden Table
Possess my tongue
Wintered table
Cry from my lungs
Pen striking paper
You shall be my muse
May the bleeding ink
Cry of your blues
Splintered skin
In a corner rest forgotten
Winding legs
You stand wild as cotton
Pen stroke slide
Across your lofty floor
Three legs you stand
When you should have four
Awkward table
You have no friend
Ancient table
You've reached your bitterend
Should my pen learn sea legs
I'd love you once more
But, on three legs you stand
When you should have four
poem by Kay Gardner
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The Friend
We sat across the table.
he said, cut off your hands.
they are always poking at things.
they might touch me.
I said yes.
Food grew cold on the table.
he said, burn your body.
it is not clean and smells like sex.
it rubs my mind sore.
I said yes.
I love you, I said.
That's very nice, he said
I like to be loved,
that makes me happy.
Have you cut off your hands yet?
poem by Marge Piercy
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The Table
This table is reserved an invitation for two,
only one sits alone and the other chair is bare.
He waits and waits as the hours creep through.
Stares at the empty space and wonders where are you.
He looks at his watch as another hour ticks by,
looks at the door to see who is coming through.
He feels eyes staring, probably wondering whom
he is waiting for as the minutes turn to hours.
The empty chair remains bare
as outside the sun sets as night begins to call.
This table is reserved for two, but where are you?
He thinks of all the reasons why you could be late
for this most important date.
He has rehearsed his lines of what he purposed to say.
The box with the ring within his pocket stays.
Where are you he wonders, do you love him anymore?
The negative thoughts invaded his mind
as he waits looking at the door, just waiting for you.
Finally the waiter comes along and tells him they are about to close.
He gives one last look at the door, then gets up and goes.
The reserved table for two stands empty and bare.
Those who should have sat there are gone never to return,
and as the light go out the table stands alone and forlorn.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Eat Your Words
I am a veggie table
A table made of veg,
There’s so much fruit upon me
All living on the edge,
Life is hard
But so are plates
And tea can be quite hot,
And vegetarian poets
Make me nervous quite a lot.
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
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Buy Me A Rose
For the touching love of a rose
a rose becomes love
a tangible love
a sweetly scented love
wonderful eye captivating love.
I love the rose in thorn
extreme beauty within
and my heart desireth one
for the love of a rose.
I'll bottle it on my table
beside my poem writing pad
away from the hatred of the sun
and disguise of broisers.
I need one
just have me one rose flower
the tangible love.
poem by Fate Mcfate
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Still-life
Through the open French window the warm sun
Lights up the polished breakfast-table, laid
Round a bowl of crimson roses, for one -
A service of Worcester porcelain, arrayed
Near it a melon, peaches, figs, small hot
Rolls in a napkin, fairy rack of toast,
Butter in ice, high silver coffee-pot,
And, heaped on a salver, the morning's post.
She comes over the lawn, the young heiress,
From her early walk in her garden-wood,
Feeling that life's a table set to bless
Her delicate desires with all that's good.
That even the unopened future lies
Like a love-letter, full of sweet surprise.
poem by Elizabeth Daryush
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Glover Road
Glover Road,
There we sat down and ate 'Kenkey' and fish;
But today, i am on the other side of the river,
And like the muse of your love in rthe land of roses! !
But the red pepper is now on your table.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Day And Date
Nests to birds and holes to foxes,
Of the olive oil and honey on my table;
But in the obscurity of darkness,
The harvest time is very great.
Unmarked graves,
The choicest wine at the beginning of love;
There is a day and a date for everyone.
Of the rich man's table and the poor man's table,
Like homes without numbers to compare with these graves;
But you need ten silver coins to reach my home.
A fig tree with leaves and the horse-walk of things,
You need a 'pencilcure' act to note my mind;
And from 'dreamontology' to 'dondoorlogy'to what is prepared.
The king and the Queen do seek for me,
But i am always missing out of their sites;
Since i do have a day and a date on my lovers heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Table D'hote
My table tennis champion girl
Who does a part time job,
And she pretends when I go there
She's not aware of me.
And I write her a poem on a paper servitte,
Hey! My haughty please do not hit me like that
As you play with a bat and a hollow ball on a table.
*To my friend Romeo Della Valle!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Table for Two
Table for Two
Anywhere
Me and you
Anytime
‘neath the stars,
waterfront,
midday sun.
The focus –
for love
and time and space
to still awhile
and face
each other
and gaze
and smile
and edge across the table -
and kiss
July 2008
poem by Colin Phillimore
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Table
Who is sitting at our table
In our favourite restaurant.
Looking into each others eyes
While chatter smothers
Loving sighs.
As she holds his hand to squeeze
Under the table.
Will our ghosts drift on the breeze
Out of the window
Through the trees.
To be lost forever
Like a heartbeat
In dark streets
To pass away
Like loving nights on satin sheets.
Who sits at your table
Where candlelight
Lit your smile.
And we drank red wine in style.
To taste the sweetness
On your lips
The fruit of love
Minus the pips.
All out plans
We'd always discuss.
You would always make a fuss
About what you would wear
On our wedding day.
At that table
Our guest of fate did sit.
But didn't rest,
Couldn't stay.
Leaving me alone in twilight meadow
Like one last flower
To sway.
poem by Kevin East
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poem from frances R. (1)
i sang a sad song last night and they all liked it.
i rested for a while on that soft chair on that table by the corner
like a very lonely stranger.
i listened for the singer after me with his guitar singing another
love song.
not for me but for all of you.
i smoked my marlboro cigarette and breathed out some smoke like what
the rest were doing in that crowded karaoke garden,
a tissue was passed, i looked at it on a pinlight
i would be singing again another sad love song as requested by all of you
that time it was the song that i had written myself four years ago
i had given birth to two lovely daughters then when their father left them
i took my guitar went on stage and started to strum and sing
a song i had written years ago, some memories rushing back to me
all of you were silent then with your glasses of wine and smoke
holding hands to your girl or man on your side pressing some
soft flesh and felt the sad song of love creeping like a vine in the air
you waited for the moment when i will cry again
lights and eyes focusing in my eyes
i didn't cry anymore on the stage as you saw me once crying.
my tissue was wet with tears just a moment ago when i sat like any
stranger on that table beside an empty chair.
it was dark on that nook.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Lover And The Gamber
She sat on a bar stool,
her long legs dangling there,
drinking a coloured mix,
they called The Country Fair.
He sat at a table,
deck of cards in his hand,
laying them down for a game of solitaire,
the lover and the gambler.
For a brief few seconds,
as they looked around,
their eyes met in sweet seduction,
in that smoky bar downtown.
As the evening wore,
and customers began to leave,
it just left the two of them there,
the lover and the gambler.
Now if he played his cards,
close to his chest,
maybe with a bit of luck,
love would do the rest.
They looked again,
with a long lingering look.
She joined him at the table,
watched the hand that he dealt.
Each card was a heart;
cupid caught them both that night.
For now the lover and the gambler,
are now man and wife.
poem by David Harris
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Thomas
I am very nice and beautiful and,
I am ready for you my love;
So do wake up and make love to me,
For i want o cross over the River of Arnon tonight.
Black clouds and thick darkness,
My love is free for you alone my love;
So pay money for the power you use and,
Come through this great door of the wilderness of love.
She's barren and has no child,
And of a girl or two for each man;
But Thomas came in and took her away,
And my food of love is prepared for you my love.
The man came out of the dust and,
The woman came out of the man;
But today is the turn of the children!
For they all came out of the woman and,
The Creator created us all in peace and love.
Come oh my lover,
Come under the shade of love;
For i have prepared a table for you and,
I will live to guide you on.
In the Plan of the Creator we were made,
And in love i do share ths life with you;
But Thomas came and took her away.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Mom Sets the Table
Night after night my mom sets the table
full of joy she passes her hand over the green fleat
like dishes she lays her chips down
they her finest china carefully stacked
her drink is the insurance bet
night after night 21 meals are servered
6 people share the meal with her
we her family eat alone
yet night after night my mom sets the table
the table of broken dreams and poisoned meals
night after night she countinues to eat
untill is consumed
Night after night my mom sets the table
night after night we her family shallow the bitter meal she makes
Night after night my mom sets the table.....
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
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My Mom Sets the Table
Night after night my mom sets the table
full of joy she passes her hand over the green fleat
like dishes she lays her chips down
they her finest china carefully stacked
her drink is the insurance bet
night after night 21 meals are servered
6 people share the meal with her
we her family eat alone
yet night after night my mom sets the table
the table of broken dreams and poisoned meals
night after night she countinues to eat
untill is consumed
Night after night my mom sets the table
night after night we her family shallow the bitter meal she makes
Night after night my mom sets the table
poem by Vincent Armone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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