At A Prodigal's Banquet Poem by Callie Carroll
At A Prodigal's Banquet
Forgive me if I stare
at the fatted calf, the ring, the shoes,
the robe, ...... the empty chair.
You're not there, you're never there.
The dazed guests sit stupidly yearning,
dismayed by their shame,
ready to give absolution,
grant you a reprieve.
They bear no malice
They let bygones be bygones
They bury the hatchet
And turn the other cheek.
But you're not there, - you're never there.
Forgive me if I stare (at the empty chair) .
You say you're an outcast,
cast out, castaway
a rascal, a reprobate, a scoundrel
A black sheep, you claim.
More like a wolf in sheep's clothing,
a Bane to sheep, I say.
They're still there,
gathered around your chair,
pondering their forgiveness,
hoping to proffer it.
Forgive me if I stare.
A superb take on the story, piercingly accurate description of feelings - keep it up!
please keep writing you have such beauty originality and metaphor
Forgive me if I stare - a useful but unstated position. The form you chose suits this clever piece of introspection. Rgds, Ivan
A new lady at the Poemhunger's table.... many welcomes... wit or witout stares, flares or pestantry cares... this one is free but very worthy of a TENfold from me!
Well articulated and nice penned with conviction. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.
a beautiful classical poem.......................very touching.........a superb work
...while the prodigal dances away to the next big city, ready to blow it again?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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11/21/2025 4:52:54 PM # 1.0.0
classic indeed... bravo...10