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He sat there on the porch, Like clock work he would sit, The swinging chair connected above Not the seat that he loved, All though it was good for a sleep. The stained rocking chair, Coloured so many times Each coating breaking though the last, His pride of place, "Good morning mam" "Evening sir" It didn't matter who you were A courtesy "Hello" From his porch, He would rock for hours of the day. When twilight came, He would look at the sunset, Smile, Then when twilight burnt its last And the heavens showed off Rocking, gazing unto the stars And wished it good night Old Man Jenkins, He Seemed to always be there, But then news came He had wished his last Morning, Evening, Good night, He was our friend, Now and forever, missed by everyone. But there are days when we pass His old rocking chair still there It rocks back and forth Sun, Wind, & rain, His chair rocking as if to say hello, We look to it depending the time of day And answer "Good evening Mr Jenkins" And when night falls, The stars seem to shine that little more bright, Sitting in heaven on his comfy chair, He takes in the view rocking for eternity up there.
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Old Man Jenkins
He sat there on the porch, Like clock work he would sit, The swinging chair connected above Not the seat that he loved, All though it was good for a sleep. The stained rocking chair, Coloured so many times Each coating breaking though the last, His pride of place, "Good morning mam" "Evening sir" It didn't matter who you were A courtesy "Hello" From his porch, He would rock for hours of the day. When twilight came, He would look at the sunset, Smile, Then when twilight burnt its last And the heavens showed off Rocking, gazing unto the stars And wished it good night Old Man Jenkins, He Seemed to always be there, But then news came He had wished his last Morning, Evening, Good night, He was our friend, Now and forever, missed by everyone. But there are days when we pass His old rocking chair still there It rocks back and forth Sun, Wind, & rain, His chair rocking as if to say hello, We look to it depending the time of day And answer "Good evening Mr Jenkins" And when night falls, The stars seem to shine that little more bright, Sitting in heaven on his comfy chair, He takes in the view rocking for eternity up there.
poetic-t
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poetic-t
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
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