At the Restaurant

 


The reason I am here
is that I’m a gourmet
and am not satisfied
with a simple buffet.

The last time I spoke
to the chef, I told him
to cook me pheasant.
And it wasn’t on a whim.
 
Last year when I ate it
it tasted very pleasant.
The desire for it now
seemed to me apparent.

The wine I drank with it
was a supple Pinot Noir,
a red delectable nectar
as smooth as the Loire.

Who tickled the ivories
as we sampled the food?
The “Moonlight Sonata”
sounded ever so good.

© Luigi Pagano 2019

© ionicus 2021
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Supratik

A sumptuous poem indeed! ‘as smooth as the Loire’ is not a desperate attempt to rhyme with Noir… it flows quite naturally. I like it very much.
Supratik

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