The Rocker

By
Old and worn out
It sits there
Facing a blaze
I wonder as I sit here
Did a young child do the same
Sitting here once
An old lady perhaps
Hands trembling from age
A man
Possibly a father
Reading the sunday paper
Someone in deep thought
Searching for an answer
A time to themselves
Relaxing in early mornings light
Sleeping, a lazy dog
Maybe a cat
A grandfather who would tell old tales
Little ones listening
Sitting on his lap
A mother rocking her baby to sleep
So many memories it hold
Silence
Listen to the rocker tell its stories as it creaks





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback