It’s a nice thing, to cook a meal and feed those for whom you care,
no matter how you’re able, whether it’s a banquet or bread you share,
gathered round a table.
On an icy day, or when the grey damp winds are blowing a storm,
you are frozen to the core, but then relish the sudden light and warm,
closing the front door.
That brief excitement, you sometimes get without having to look.
Unexpected praise, perhaps a sudden invite or finding a brilliant book,
waking up on sunny days.
Out with friends, on one of those nights when all are on a high,
nobody is down, you’re laughing so much it makes you cry
cos everyone’s a clown.