Tables prepared white with silver glistening arranged in two’s and four’s or more.
Waiters, attendant at their stations patiently wait and watch as we settle to scrutinize the menu’s, for scrumptious things to polish off.
Once we start chatting amongst ourselves, casting glances surreptitiously, some critical, most friendly around the room.
The waiter’s know it is their signal to ask if we would like to order, or do we need more time to choose?
Pen’s poised over small pads of paper they busily squiggle and scratch away.
Stopping now and then to advise or repeat the awkward culinary names we failed to catch.
Away they go attentive, swinging big trays aloft, going out empty, returning full right to the top.
It’s a period of constant action complicated on occasions by the sea’s devilish sway and drop.
Which, catches both passengers and waiters off guard. Sending them reeling into complicated balancing displays, which are hard to stop.
Above all, this is laughter, together with gentle quiet attention and a joke or two to take away.
As we go off having had an elegant sufficiency. Happy contented, we send our thanks to the kitchen for our food, and our gratitude for not having to do the huge piles of accumulated washing up.
Copyright © WobblingPen