MY IMAGINARY RESTAURANT

MY IMAGINARY RESTAURANT

Where all my food               
     is good                         
     (and cheap, and free
     and made by me)
And all the chairs
     are wood      
My restaurant
it has no name
     (it gets its fame
     from mouth to mouth
     silent approval)

I was still small

And food was scarce

I always cried

Myself to sleep

Or apathetic sat aside

And fought over that one

crumb

The fragrance
Of the herbs I use
     (I hand out in abundancy                  
     In soup or icecream)
Make mouths water 
Make eyes large
Make hearts happy 
Makes everyone a child
     (That knows no pain
     That doesn't know
     what hunger means)

***

- Darren White

September 15, 2016

Written for poetery contest: 

My imaginary restaurant