This old, wooden rocking chair
Has seen a lot of things.
It rocked for fame and fortune;
And schemed the death of kings.
Throughout the years, its owners
Have been a varied lot.
Some of them were honest,
And some of them were not.

In the French and Indian War,
It rocked for the Colonies.
But during the Revolution,
It was carried across the seas.
For the war of 1812,
Great Britain had its throne.
But when America was torn in half,
The states called this chair home.

During the time of World War One,
It did not take part at all.
Instead, it stayed home with a girl,
And rocked worriedly all night long.
During the years of World War Two,
It sided with Germany.
It watched as chaos held the world,
Yet it rocked on stoically.

When the US invaded Cuba,
Then went on to Panama,
This chair was found there waiting,
While it rocked on and on.
During the Korean and Vietnam Wars,
It found its way back again
To this land we call our home,
To the place where this chair began.

And like little lines of soldiers,
The patterns marching on this chair
Remind us of all these past events
And what had happened there.
The scars and gashes of times long gone,
Forever in the wood will be.
This chair has seen so many wars,
But it will find peace with me.