A Wooden Table... Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

You see the tree, its buds, and flowing nectar when you view a wooden table. Immensely beautiful poem. Thank you.

i see the comment by T. Kaul refers to metaphor. that is probably part of the reason i don't completely understand the poem. i wondered what pokes meant and found some online definitions: • Poke (n.) A bag; a sack; a pocket. (v. t.) To thrust or push against or into with anything pointed; hence, to stir up; to excite; as, to poke a fire. (n.) A large North American herb of the genus Phytolacca (P. decandra) , bearing dark purple juicy berries; - called also garget, pigeon berry, pocan, and pokeweed. The root and berries have emetic and purgative properties, and are used in medicine. The young shoots are sometimes eaten as a substitute for asparagus, and the berries are said to be used in Europe to color wine. (v. t.) To thrust with the horns; to gore. (n.) A lazy person; a dawdler; also, a stupid or uninteresting person. (n.) The act of poking; a thrust; a jog; as, a poke in the ribs. (v. t.) To put a poke on; as, to poke an ox. (n.) A long, wide sleeve; - called also poke sleeve. (n.) A contrivance to prevent an animal from leaping or breaking through fences. It consists of a yoke with a pole inserted, pointed forward. (v. i.) To search; to feel ones way, as in the dark; to grope; as, to poke about. it is VERY coincidental that just yesterday i was thinking (i don't remember why) about a saying i hadn't heard in many years: a pig in a poke. choosing from the above definitions i'm guessing it refers to a small pig being held in a sack. hmmmm? anyway, i just remembered the title...a wooden table....which drew me to this poem. i'm guessing now that you are considering the source of the table (trees, bless them) and associating tree blossom nectar to the poems you create while sitting at the table. i still don't know what pokes refers to. and i wonder if the word why, starting the poem, is supposed to be when. hmmmm? again. now that i think i've figured out MOST of the poem i really am enjoying the tale it tells. thanks for sharing. :)

The nectar may flow, out of control from the silent trees. I haven't read something that beautiful and descriptive in a long time.

A beautiful metaphorical write..Enjoyed reading.

dream is dream, never worn out, thanks good write.