When that from Babeh babble blows away
and Samson out of Sam springs, interplay
between life's actors surely may be seen
and happy time for authors set the scene
your restaurant will be so widely known
that never shall the noisy telephone
ever stop ringing, pleading for a place
to entry gain, participitate with grace
in tales, once told, which will impression make
more lasting that a well cooked Bison steak.
For what's at stake attending table talk
is more than cooking books or midnght walk
with lover beneath some moonlight soon forgotten
as life blooms, dies, then fades, its corpus rotten.
Draw on and through old tales to menu make
creative writing never, Sam, foresake.
(20 September 2011)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem