A family gathering, a Sunday debate
A spread of keen citruses, bright and ornate
Your hunger awaiting the green light from dad
As he seasons and juices his fresh catch of scad
Sitting adjacent, parents and sons
In happy approach, each canonical nones
Grace and a table indicative of
Pride from a father, a labour of love
Who mentions quite playfully, points with a knife
How the fruits of their loins will be needed in life
To keep the seeds handy, to burst into colour
Peeling the pith, squeezing juice from another
They'll each have a table, and gathering glow
And a orchard of offsprings, a life to bestow
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