In the parlor corner, it sat alone
It was old and needed care
Deep gouges scarred the frame
Of a rickety rocking chair
It had been there forever
No one could remember how long
A permanent fixture at Granny’s house
It was where it belonged
Rumor was it was her great Granny’s
It had come here by wagon train
Had a deep gouge in its arm
Arrow embedded in its wood grain
One rocker had been replaced
Broke during the “New Madrid” quake
It had been repaired many times
Reinforced so that it wouldn’t break
The stories that it could tell
If that chair could only talk
It had been my Granny’s favorite
Sit in it, she never balked
The things that it has witnessed
Down through all of those years
Births and burials a plenty
Joy, laughter, sorrow, and tears
It’s been through many hardships
Been occupied during them all
My granny would pray there
For both needs both large and small
She prayed Uncle Willis home
From the conflict of World War Two
Consoled her weeping neighbors
Army chaplain had delivered the news
Now that Granny is dead and gone
In my home, it fits me quite well
It is broken in and very comfy
And of that, I can most surely tell
There I pray and seek my God
Just like my precious Granny did
I listen patiently for His voice
And like Granny, do as I am bid
Friday, June 17, 2022