As i sit in my very old rocking chair thinking here and there, i try to imagine the history of the one who made the chair.
Cutting here and sanding there, rocking too and fro. I try to imagine the long befores, maybe long before i was born how people sat in the very same chair rocking far away.
And as the years slipped by time just flew, just flew so far away. My mind takes me there, far far away to the one who made the chair...rock.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 9:50 AM UTC
As i sit in my very old rocking chair thinking here and there, i try to imagine the history of the one who made the chair.
Cutting here and sanding there, rocking too and fro. I try to imagine the long befores, maybe long before i was born how people sat in the very same chair rocking far away.
And as the years slipped by time just flew, just flew so far away. My mind takes me there, far far away to the one who made the chair...rock.
Request permission to use this poem