The Old Lady In The Restaurant Poem by Sallie Howson
The Old Lady In The Restaurant
They pity her
All alone
In the corner
Of the restaurant
Poor old dear
With no one to love.
She pecks at her food
And sips at her wine
And writes and writes
In her battered old book.
A diary they imagine
Meticulous details
Of an empty life.
If only they knew.
Passion and desire
Drip from every
Line of love
She writes for you
She knows every inch
Of your beautiful body
And every twist
Of your troubled mind.
The background babble
And the waiters’ banter
Are lost on her.
She hears nothing
But the whisper of your voice
In her head.
She feels your kisses down her neck
Your finger writing your name
On her back
Your thumb tracing circles
Around her breasts
And beyond.
She belongs to you
So totally
So utterly
That she needs nothing more
Than memories and sustenance
Till you are
United
Again.
Good to see your poems back and you writing again. Thoughtful piece, liked it. - chuck
The background babble And the waiters’ banter Are lost on her. She hears nothing But the whisper of your voice In her head.- - -> you have painted the setting so well we could sit down at a table and order!
it's a beautiful story expressed thru your fine verse! a heart wrenching write
My friend there are so many poignant stories here! Excellent composition.
I am in the restaurant Sally............I am watching this old lady as I read..........Fabulous poem kid...........I was there trust me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 6:46:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
We crossed the Mississippi There in the rice land flats of Arkansas We stopped for lunch At a table near the window An old lady sat sippin her coke She came over and admired the kids So quite and mannerly As they ate their fries and burger Said she was Arkansas's Poet Laureate And wrote poems about the people Who stopped for a break Never did she give us her name Or for that matter Offer us a glimpse of her poems Nevertheless She made a lasting image On our minds Perhaps she was As you describe Writing a story About her loves and lost We will never know But perhaps we will be somedays United Again.