This Old Rocking Chair (POEM)
This old rocking chair of yester-year,
Reminding us all of the people held dear.
Of forefathers before, who worked through blood, sweat and tears.
Of loving grandmothers, mending clothes, tending to steers.
This piece of wood, a cornerstone, to any farmstead.
It tells a story of our elders, who built this farm, who’er now dead.
They rocked as they shared, their stories of old.
Of days long gone, only leaving the oratories that were told.
Is any mark left of these wise ones before?
Other than this beautiful rocking chair here, that is rocking no more?
It creaks and it bends, as its wood shows its years.
Yet, it keeps reminding us all, of the people held dear.
They are gone but not forgotten, as I look at the farm.
I thank the Lord for my ancestors and these rocking chair arms.
It will rest in the corner, near that ol wood heat.
Until I too pass over and the cycle repeats.
~ L. Davis, #thepoetfarmer