Wot no Table

I have been informed by Sparkling Eyes the table has gone. It's outside. In the garden. With the birds the bees and the flora. There it stands alone. Unwanted. Without a friend. Except for a stray cat who occasionally comes round and crys out loud. Not to mention any insects who like to use it for breakfast. I am mortified. Life without a table, whatever next? I've been told to "get over it" and "it's not your house" but I can't help it, I am still mortified. It just will not leave my mind. OK there may have only been one good chair. But chairs can be bought to fill empty places. A doom and gloom has descended upon my mind and the image of a room without a table is like a car without wheels, coats with no coat stand, fish flapping helplessly out of water and day without sun.

Ode to the table.

Oh table I love thee. I share my cereal with thee, the quite tender moments of a morning coffee and intent listening to the radio. Oh I beseech thee fair table, come on in from the outside. Into the warm, into my heart. Let me put my elbows upon you and gaze at my re pas. And thank the heaven's for your four legged support. Without you my knees and thighs would be bruised and battered. Oh Table, dearest table you are in my thoughts. Let me run my fingers over your hard smooth surface. Let me place a cup of coffee on your top, spread out my newspaper and read from you. Oh table, oh table don't go away. Be there when I need you. Be there because I will always need you, want you, and require somewhere to place my keys, lose change, wallet, mp3 player, books, glasses, and other accoutrement's. I lean on you when you are there, without you I fall over. Oh table, table come on in from the cold. There's no spys out there, just birds all a twitter and they'll not appreciate you as I. Table you're so useful, are you not? I cry, I ask oh table, come on in from the cold, let me warm you with my dinner plate, let me desire you no more. Sob. Sob.

Yes I have a fondness for tables, their usefulness predates the invention of fire for early man. Now it is as though my legs have been cut from under me. I sure hope I can sleep tonight.