The Table Made for Three
Why don’t they make a table,
A table made for three,
For when I dine with friends of ours,
I am asked why only me.
I shrug and tell them you’re away,
They smile and say, “too bad.”
Then I miss you most of all,
It’s then that I feel sad.
Perhaps the answer is to make,
A table made for three;
Then I will not seem quite as strange,
When you’re not there with me.
The table will have just three sides,
And chairs will be just three;
Three settings and three glasses,
Three napkins for the knee.
Just a bottle, half will do,
And half a memory.
When I am dining out with friends,
At tables made for three.
Michael (Walsh) 24.02.13.