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A Filling Meal

My table’s taken, so I sit
   At next convenient place,
The café like a cozy nook
   Where one escapes the chase. 

A ceiling fan turns lazily
   Like hawks wheel in the sky.
The Christmas music sets the mood,
   Since that big day is nigh. 

The waitress wears a Santa cap
   And jolly little smile
As she delivers plates of food –
   But thinking all the while 

Of Christmas shopping still undone,
   And how she’ll spend her tips
On kin, especially her niece –
   Sweet Little Sugar Lips. 

Her thoughts go to the store and find
   The perfect little gift
That Sugar Lips is sure to like,
   And then, like snowflakes drift, 

Her thoughts roam further as she fills
   An empty glass of tea,
To pale pink paper and a bow,
   The package for the tree. 

And like snow flurries blown by wind,
   Her thoughts find Christmas day,
And Sugar Lips with gift in hand,
   Face lit up like flambé. 

The light that fills a loved one’s face,
   A grownup or a child,
Is greater than all trees combined;
   Makes ornaments seem mild. 

The waitress, staring into space,
   Herself has sudden glow,
Sparked by the thought of Sugar Lips
   And how her smile will grow.

She told her thought; it was dessert
  That she passed on to me;
And as I left the small café,
  My heart hummed merrily.

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photo by Sanja Gjenero at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mgylSMU/present

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

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