Sitting at the Table

 

Sitting at the table amongst my peers,  

Talking about the harvest and its bloom this year.  

Dressed to the nines yet appearing from the moon,  

Laughing at the perspective for being in tune.

A favorable wind flows within, blowing to shout,  

Watching my beanstalk grow and sprout.  

Will you climb this vine to the heavens I speak,  

Calling me to hear is the clouds accumulating physique.

In the midst of merriment and shared delight,  

We celebrate the fruits of our labor's fight.  

With each success, a new story to tell,  

Binding us together in the harvest's spell.

In the heart of camaraderie and grace,  

We find joy in this bountiful place.  

For every vine that reaches the sky,  

There's a dream and a hope flying high.