Lap tray.
Weyhey!
Saviour of jeans.
Gravy blocker for the knees.
You are our baked bean wicket keeper,
our graveyard of stains.
A thousand tea time stories
splashed across your face,
you are a buffet of the past.
A dribbling artist’s finest work.
Morning, noon and night
you do great holding a plate
for my ring-finger room mate
and every one
of her glorious cutlery mistakes.
Lap tray.
Weyhey!
© Carl Burkitt 2020
