A man filled with the happiness of his home,
Put his hat on the table,
He put his keys and his cell phone There too.
He placed on the table his newspaper and his still warm coffee.
The sound of the sparrows song and the screech of the nearby crow had also been sat on the table.
On the table he rested the first breathe of a living baby and the last breathe from his dying mother,
The first words from his son and the last from his father.
He placed the light from the sun on the table and the darkness from this own shadow there too.
On the table the man put memories he had forgotten and the new memories he had just made.
The first steps from his daughter stood on the table too
The table was getting weary but nothing could make it fall, his amazing table kept standing tall.