A Fantasy Dinner Party

A little while ago an online book group to which I belong asked the question: If you could go on a date with a writer, who would it be and what would you do? Not being slow to come forward, I nominated two. Both poets.
Taking tea, in Twickenham, at a little gate-leg table, in front of a fire, in a book-lined sitting room with Alexander Pope.... Or, in bed with John Donne. I didn’t mind which. Of course, I would have to be careful that I didn’t end up in bed with Alex and pouring a cuppa for John.

When the prompt came on Lancashire Dead Good Poets to write a poem about a fantasy dinner party I didn’t at first see it, having a week previously adopted a cat. The beautiful Ophelia, known as Fifi. My time was taken up with entertaining her. I really hadn’t given any thought to giving a dinner party.
However, a guest list immediately came to mind.

Mystery GuestsMy fantasy dinner party
would be filled with phantoms
helping to solve a mystery or two.
Jack the Ripper would sit next to Jesus.
Tutankhamun with Edgar Allan Poe.
Shakespeare, Bacon, the dark lady,
let's sort it out once and for all.
Adam and Eve. Noah. Houdini.
The crew of the Marie Celeste.
Designers of the pyramids,
the architects of Stonehenge.
As women are under-represented,
Emily Dickinson and Old Mother Shipton
will be welcome to come and tell us
exactly what the dash they meant.
And You, the mystery man in my life,
of course, my phantom,
there's a place for you.(JB 2021)

I  might need a gavel to keep order, make sure they don’t all speak at once.

The catering could be a problem. Ten is the max round my dining table and then only if you sit knee to knee; so we would have to eat in relays. And I am not sure of any dietary requirements so, perhaps, best if they brought their own.

I have drawn up an individual menu, the alternative’s bangers and mash.

The Menu
Jack the Ripper: raw steak, liver, kidneys.
Tutankhamun: oatmeal porridge, granary bread.
Adam and Eve: apple tart with syrup of figs
Noah: fish.
Jesus: a fish finger butty.
The crew of the Marie Celeste:
pickled herrings, lime and cucumber.
Edgar Allan Poe: hamburgers and fries
Shakespeare, Bacon, the dark lady:
crows’ feet and swans’ necks.
Houdini: a jacket potato.
Emily Dickinson:
corn - on - the - cob - with - a - saucer - of - butter.
Old Mother Shipton: used to cave dwelling,
bat soup, rock salt and dripping.
The ancient Egyptians and stone-age men are tricky,
best stick to jam sandwiches and salad.
My friend: custard creams and black coffee.
Myself: lavender cake and rose-water jelly.(JB 2021)  
Afterwards if there’s time we’ll play Charades.

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