Mustard would be nice

I often thought about a Poem

that would end with the line

“Mustard would be nice!”

Well here it is:

There will come a time

there will come a now

when I will hear

a knocking from the downside of my table

And I will lay down my pen

and I will say in a clear and full and solemn voice

“Yes!”

And then the great guardian will appear

The great guardian will appear

will rise from that other side of my table

with his eye-patch and his magpie-feather

under a sheep-skin and dog-rose cape

with his lantern and his hour-glass in his bear-paws

And I will clear the table and

we will unfold the table-cloth together

and he will twitch an eye and ask: “Ready?”

“Ready” I will smile, and he:

“Any particular ingredient, some...topping

for the last supper

after this long and arduous journey?”

And I will say:

“Mustard would be nice!”

(Spicy...if possible...)