Of Her Rocker
I have set in this corner too long it’s true
My hand rails are polished to a light umber hue
My spines have come loose, but they just need some glue
And my cushions have faded from a deep royal blue
Left in the old shed, away I’ve been cast
I may appear shabby just a thing of the past
But the memories I hold will forever last
A reminder of yesterday a history vast
My first home was country, a gift to a bride
Who sewed crimson pillows for her backside
She made me a home on the front porch outside
Where she contently rocked as her neighbors she eyed
I rocked her first child when he came to be born
Moved into the parlor, that floor became worn
With the constant rocking, for he wailed so forlorn
And would only settle when rocked I’d have sworn
I was turned upside down more times than I could count
Ridden like a horse by that boy, like a mount!
Wore out the pillows all on his account
And he once broke a rocker, if I recount.
The years went on by but my life was the same
The boy he grew older and a man he became
Moved to the city, I thought it a shame
It was so far away that he so rarely came
So away to the attic I sat for a spell
Till the old man came took me and mended me well
She sewed these blue cushions as far as I could tell
And set back to rocking on the porch, till she fell.
The people all came their respects they all pay
And the boy came back home, but to mourn not to play
He left with the old man, he took him away
And I was put in this shed on that old fateful day.
But what’s this I see as the door opens wide
A young man takes me and puts me outside
Some small nails and sandpaper returns my pride
New cushions of green, I’m a gift to his bride
My legacy continues in the house on the hill
For comfort and caring I can give still
I’ll be here for the wee one, I’ll wait until
I can rock steady a new life to fulfill
Copyright © Krow Fischer | Year Posted 2009
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