Life’s a banquet
And most pour souls
Are starving to death.

It’s a line
From the production
Of Auntie Mame.

The real line is:
Life’s a banquet
And most SOB’s
Are starving to death.

But since it’s so
Close to the holidays
I thought I should be
More reserved.

I have my own version
Of this line:
Life’s a borgassmord –

Yes, you read me right.
Borgassmord is way more
Exciting than
Smorgasbord…

Life is a borgassmord
And my plate is rarely empty.

Doors open
Windows close.
Doors close and
Windows open.

When change happens,
Committments come
To an end –

I envision my plate
With room for
Something more.
Something different.
Something more fulfilling.

It’s my plate after all.
Other’s can try to fill it.
They can also try to clear it.

But it’s my plate
And I have the power
To return to life’s
borgassmord
And fill it up.

Sometimes life
Runs out of cobbler.
Sometimes the buns
Are stale.

No worries,
It’s a banquet,
An endless
Beautiful
Adventurous
Borgassmord.

And it’s my plate.
My choice.
My appetite.
I’m not required to share.

My plate is ever changing.
Foods fall off
New delights
Take their place.
And with every change…
So do the flavors.

Life is a banquet
And at that banquet
Is a borgassmord.

Music plays
Inviting us to dance.

Plates are handed out,
Inviting us to feast…

Some choose to starve,
Other not to dance.

I’ll be in the middle
Of the dance floor –
After I fill my plate.