You were young when you first sat

In the chair that was too big--

With creaking wood from years of rocking,

Though you were but the burden of a twig.

 

I sat for years collecting dust 

before I was fit for your interest again.

The next time that you sat down 

Was with a notebook and a pen.

 

I never knew what you had written,

But could gather the intent

When you returned to my stiff embrace 

With a smile and her perfume scent.

 

That kept me warm for a while, 

When you had your evenings on the porch--

Waiting for her to fill your silence--

The light in your eyes as bright as a torch.

 

You grew up and grew out of my embrace,

Deciding my arms were lacking,

Because hers were warm and comforting 

While mine were cold and cracking.

 

I didn't feel your warmth again 

Until you uprooted me like a tree 

From the home where I had rested 

For years watching over my family.

 

You found a new house to live in 

And filled it with life to call it home.

I was proud of who you grew into 

From a mere child who liked to roam

 

I never did catch your interest one last time.

Instead I remained lonely for a while. 

Then one day when I was especially cold,

I felt your child sit down with a smile.

 

Though I was old and creaking,

I was alive with a familiar warmth that night

As I recalled the twig-like burden who sat not long ago 

With a hopeful heart and a smile so bright.