The Round Table on Sundays
Sundays Memory’s and Dreams Wife’s mother is now mine My mother as become her mother By law, or in law Both grandmothers Are round for Sunday lunch They eat and talk of last week I talk of yesterday, even today The children sit quietly Staring into thin air Thinking and dreaming of Tomorrow, I bet I am close There again, Belinda’s probably Thinking, I'd rather have melted Butter on! A thick slice of toast I remember David and Belinda Smiling Sundays Still, now there’ve got Kids of their own... Sign in to see full entry.