Gravitas Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Sir?
I hate to disturb you.
And your meditations.
Sir...
Remember those people,
Who ostracized you?
A few years ago.
Do you remember them?

'Like a prostrate exam.
Why? '

You will not believe this.
But,
They are at the door.

'What door? '

Your door.
This one.

'Uh...um..uh.'

Sir?
Incredible as this may seem.
They still wear those same outfits.
The ballroom attire.
The gowns and tuxedos.
But...
They are torn and tattered.
They look dreadful.

'Uh...I..I..um.'

And...
They carry a huge basket of assorted fruits.
A case of champagne.
With a bouquet of the most fantastic flowers,
I have not seen since the passing of Princess Diana.

'What are they upto I wonder? '

They 'say' they are hoping you forgive them.
Not only for ruining your life.
But the years of the backstabbing,
Character assassinations done against you.
When you attempted to persuade them,
Their lives were being endangered.
By their negligence.
And they've come to offer heartfelt respect.

'What kind of apples were in the basket?
Any Empire or MacIntosh?
Walnuts or cashews?
Bananas? Tangerines? Pineapples? '

Uh...yeeeaaah.

'Great.
The gravitas of the moment escapes my tongue.
I think there is a sewing kit in the pantry.
Give it to them.
I can get another one.'

And?

'Close the door.
Bring me the basket.
Take what you want.'

Sir?
Are you malaised,
With no gravitas?
Is there something else you wish to say.
Something you wish of them to ask?

'No.
Oh...
Yes there is.
Remind me to remove the baked chicken,
From the oven in twenty minutes.'

That's it?

'You can hand me a MacIntosh.
I can't wait to sink my teeth in it! '