A place setting for one.
A wedding gift from mother.
Old Master Silver,
Arabia of Finland China.
Pressed glass salts and goblet.
Canterbury glass for the bud vase,
and finally the Ivory Damask Linen,
makes a cover for your hospital tray.
It is your granddaughter's conspiracy
and your doctor is to be the mater de
and the nurse a starched waitress.
And a wave of my magic wand and
the boiled chicken becomes Veal Marsala.
The Jell-O is pears and cheese,
and the orange juice a fine fume blanc.
The string beans
become tender asparagus shoots.
There is a bright red rose in the bud vase
and lights are low and candle is lit.
But, you say still a hospital room.
Hang on!
We can fix that too.
Your bed is a flying time machine.
Off to the Cotton Club for the jazz.
Or to a toney
Victorian New York for a regal banquet.
Maybe a simple
pioneer woman getting out her wedding finery?.
We can do no more until
aunt Maud gives the second setting.
Then a hint of lavender
and a setting for two.
You won’t be left in a cold, white room.