The excitement I remember, oh so well,
the story of which I do tell
A sea of chairs at the store
I sat upon a dozen or more
The perfect one, the perfect fit
As I slide into it,
Then home I went, satisfaction abound,
The perfect chair I had found.
The relief it gave my tired bones,
After work when I came home,
Like a comforting friend, always there for me,
No better chair this chair could be
The years passed, my early life,
then later, with my wife,
Many years, it held fast,
This chair was built to last
My wife and I, sat together,
Then son, then daughter, bathed in leather,
A dog, a cat, too many to hold
This chair part of my story be told
Then grandchildren, as they nap,
I lovingly held in my lap,
Rocking gently as they sleep,
My chair our comfort it did keep
As the years passed, my wife and I
Aged far beyond vigor and spry,
We sit together, huddled in bliss,
In my chair, with a kiss.
Now my chair- hauntingly quiet,
My wife now gone, no longer by it,
I sit alone, in memory,
Weeping together, my chair and me
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 7:18 PM UTC
The excitement I remember, oh so well,
the story of which I do tell
A sea of chairs at the store
I sat upon a dozen or more
The perfect one, the perfect fit
As I slide into it,
Then home I went, satisfaction abound,
The perfect chair I had found.
The relief it gave my tired bones,
After work when I came home,
Like a comforting friend, always there for me,
No better chair this chair could be
The years passed, my early life,
then later, with my wife,
Many years, it held fast,
This chair was built to last
My wife and I, sat together,
Then son, then daughter, bathed in leather,
A dog, a cat, too many to hold
This chair part of my story be told
Then grandchildren, as they nap,
I lovingly held in my lap,
Rocking gently as they sleep,
My chair our comfort it did keep
As the years passed, my wife and I
Aged far beyond vigor and spry,
We sit together, huddled in bliss,
In my chair, with a kiss.
Now my chair- hauntingly quiet,
My wife now gone, no longer by it,
I sit alone, in memory,
Weeping together, my chair and me
A simple exercise in a chronological movement, with a rather melancholy ending.
