Unnamed man,
Unnamed woman,
Ceremoniously unite.

Unknown identity,
Stands with them,
Sanctifying their delight.

Merriment aflutter,
Celebration songs,
A great feast for all to share.

Headwaiter—tasting,
inspiring guests—Then
Merriment runs out—
oh dear.

A serious problem,
family in disrepute,
reputations on the line—
Till a mother smartly calls on out
‘Behold, this son of mine.’

Unknown identity,
trusted son of his mother,
does surely obey—
mother tells the servants
in no uncertain terms:
‘whatever he says—obey.’

Taking what is available,
her son commands that
jugs be filled with commonality,
obediently the servants fill—all too aware of their depravity.
Jars filled to overflowing, the commonality held,
her son tells them to ‘deliver.’

The servants take and draw
and walk towards
headwaiter with a shiver.

Shaky hands,
the servants pace before onlookers aplenty,
Wobble up to headwaiter carrying the cup,
that will surely leave him empty…

Heads down as they hand this cup onwards
afraid to meet his eyes,
the headwaiter looks down at the cup
before raising it up high…

to his lips…

‘Behold!

—You—

have

saved the best

for

last!’


© Daniel Schwamm, All Rights Reserved, 2015.


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