A Rocking Chair's Life

Said goodbye so many times, To its occupants that once were babies. New cradle to so many grand parents, Gently rocked to sleep by memories. Grandpa once told me he felt a kinship, To this chair that creaked once in a while. His limbs and its were very much the same; Only difference was it would always have new customers. As a little boy it was my rocking horse, I climbed its high back like spiderman. Couldn't tip it over no matter how hard I tried; Just swung on a wooden toy that Grandpa hated to love. My father sat there in that very same chair, Swaying away in a chariot he had surely earned. I sat next to him then and we reminisced, Knowing that soon I would take his place. Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved "A poem to me is the essence of any thought, Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky. It can fly like no other bird to places never seen, Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place." © 2014 Robert William Gruhn