AT THE ROUND TABLE

'I just knew' she said,
 'yours, would be a round table,
for that's a sign of welcome'.
.

How often laughing voices, over this table had  rung,
clattering plates, and bright eyes, said more than wagging tongues.
With glinting glasses brimming, children dashing pell mell,
such completeness could not consider, for whom may toll a bell.

What was it I saw lurking, in a corner of that room,
In afternoon sunlight,  hiding darkly, casting gloom.
Was it a shadow foretelling, of days to be, now long past?
When tireless children, ran bare foot, on damp greenest  grass?

One year our curly willow, withered,  why, I'll never know,
but after that  everything changed, it was time for us all to go,
into the deeper valley, each on their own path.
But seated, at the  round table quietly even now, I hear the echo, of a laugh.

Tushie   25/11/12