Supper in the refectory
of the abbey,
cloister lit only
by random lights
and moon's glow,
Leo by bell rope
dressed in black robes
by the refectory door,
where a man's heart is there's
his treasure Ambrose said,
I walk to the breadboard
and cut thick slices
of brown bread,
if you want you can
she said and so I did,
the abbot enters
and begins the grace
before meals,
Latin in unison,
stomach rumbling,
eyes on the tiled
wooden floor,
te corda nostra sómnient,
we sit on benches
Gareth unrolls his napkin
and cutlery within,
the monk reads
from some holy book,
I nibble the brown bread
waiting for supper,
Hugh gazes at the monk opposite
eyes gauging and judging,
monks bring supper
from the kitchen on trolleys,
place me across your knees
she said smiling,
the science of love is
what I want said Therese
the only science I want,
I eat the cheese macaroni
warm and creamy,
the monk reading
speaks of Cromwell in battle,
George next to me
eats in a slow measured way,
eyes on the bench,
ears attentive to the reading
unlike mine,
I wanted her,
enter me as a ship
in port she said,
dark windows behind us,
moon's light is seen
through the glass above,
by being kind one is free
even though a slave
Augustine said
evil makes one a slave
though seeming royal,
supper is at an end
drinking the last
sips of cocoa, I lick clean
the cutlery and place
within the napkin
and put beneath the bench,
the abbot taps on his table
and we stand
for prayers of thanks,
Leo goes to Rome for studies
and we say farewell
by handshake and words
in the cloister
by the refectory door,
moonlight in the corner
of the cloister sky,
come she said
take me don't be shy.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
Supper in the refectory
of the abbey,
cloister lit only
by random lights
and moon's glow,
Leo by bell rope
dressed in black robes
by the refectory door,
where a man's heart is there's
his treasure Ambrose said,
I walk to the breadboard
and cut thick slices
of brown bread,
if you want you can
she said and so I did,
the abbot enters
and begins the grace
before meals,
Latin in unison,
stomach rumbling,
eyes on the tiled
wooden floor,
te corda nostra sómnient,
we sit on benches
Gareth unrolls his napkin
and cutlery within,
the monk reads
from some holy book,
I nibble the brown bread
waiting for supper,
Hugh gazes at the monk opposite
eyes gauging and judging,
monks bring supper
from the kitchen on trolleys,
place me across your knees
she said smiling,
the science of love is
what I want said Therese
the only science I want,
I eat the cheese macaroni
warm and creamy,
the monk reading
speaks of Cromwell in battle,
George next to me
eats in a slow measured way,
eyes on the bench,
ears attentive to the reading
unlike mine,
I wanted her,
enter me as a ship
in port she said,
dark windows behind us,
moon's light is seen
through the glass above,
by being kind one is free
even though a slave
Augustine said
evil makes one a slave
though seeming royal,
supper is at an end
drinking the last
sips of cocoa, I lick clean
the cutlery and place
within the napkin
and put beneath the bench,
the abbot taps on his table
and we stand
for prayers of thanks,
Leo goes to Rome for studies
and we say farewell
by handshake and words
in the cloister
by the refectory door,
moonlight in the corner
of the cloister sky,
come she said
take me don't be shy.
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