Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Last Christmas Eve, that's when I found her big *** rocker, lying in the trash 'neath layers of paint, magnolia flowers still blooming, carved in oak or ash it's been a while since you've been rockin' passed along through the hands of time the story's in you, but you're not talkin' buried in layers of paint and grime can't deny she's looking older halfway home to the pearly gate a sadder thing the day they sold her wired her well but sealed her fate and I declare before I found you my heart was smoldering in smoke and ash and I can guess just why they left you one man's lover, another man's trash once restored and in your glory rocking chair, I'll see you though your wood will breathe and meet the floor boards worn with time but good as new Now grab a hold of that big **** rocker drag her out to the slanty porch say lookee here you're fit for rockin' and this old can still carries the torch we'll work it out, I'm still believing God's in His rocker at the pearly gate And here we'll sit with my guitar and surely bend the rhythm straight!
0
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
Big *** Rocker
Last Christmas Eve, that's when I found her big *** rocker, lying in the trash 'neath layers of paint, magnolia flowers still blooming, carved in oak or ash it's been a while since you've been rockin' passed along through the hands of time the story's in you, but you're not talkin' buried in layers of paint and grime can't deny she's looking older halfway home to the pearly gate a sadder thing the day they sold her wired her well but sealed her fate and I declare before I found you my heart was smoldering in smoke and ash and I can guess just why they left you one man's lover, another man's trash once restored and in your glory rocking chair, I'll see you though your wood will breathe and meet the floor boards worn with time but good as new Now grab a hold of that big **** rocker drag her out to the slanty porch say lookee here you're fit for rockin' and this old can still carries the torch we'll work it out, I'm still believing God's in His rocker at the pearly gate And here we'll sit with my guitar and surely bend the rhythm straight!
igclair
Written by
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem