Thursday, August 7, 2014

That Old Wooden Chair

 That old wooden chair was his favorite spot to be
Sitting in the sunshine in the warmth of the day
Looking out across the land he loved so much
It stirred up memories that carried him away

He always took pride in those big cornfields
 He plowed from sun up to sun down
There’s nothing left but underbrush now
Nary a stalk of corn planted in the ground

Those fields made good corn back in the day
He hauled many a load to the gristmill
Even if it took him all day in that wagon 
On an old gutted out road, most of it uphill

He always tried to share his bounty with others
Everyone wasn’t fortunate to have a good year
Even the stalks made for good fodder
That livestock sure did make it disappear

There was always plenty of planting going on
Whether it be corn or gardens growing so kind
Had to eat come summer or winter
Everything was canned, nothing was left behind

Even before the harvest had time to come in
He thought about winter and what it would bring
He had to keep the home fires burning, or else
If the weather got to bad and firewood got lean

He’d been all over those mountains and hills
Cutting and snaking out wood, it was the only way
That old mule knew how to work hard
He sure could pull that sled on any given day

One can never have enough wood to burn
In the winter when the sun sets low in the sky
Back when he was young and strong
Work was a pleasure, he could never deny 

He could still hear those cherished words
Come on home now, it’s suppertime
He’d grab a dipper of cold, spring water
A sure cure for a hot thirst every time

Sitting on the porch in that old wooden chair
With his sweetheart, wife and best friend
Meant more to him than anything in the world
Oh how he yearned to do it all over again

There’s that pretty little grove of apple trees
Been there many a year, and so content
She helped to plant them, they brought a smile
Even with their trunks so bowed and bent

Her pretty flowers still bloomed in the spring
He always told her she had a green thumb
More beauty than an old man’s heart could hold
He’d soon see her, she was waiting for him to come

Awe, it sometimes brought tears knowing
Time and circumstance had left him behind
Yearning for the things he’d lost and loved 
 Made him feel like he wasn’t worth a dime

He knew his life’s work was over and done
Remembering those bygone days brought a smile
They sure knew how to lift an old man’s spirits 
From the warmth of that chair, if only for a while

Today the old house is so empty and quiet
 Nary a sound but the mantle clock’s tick
Plenty of reminders in every nook and crack
Over in the corner is that little walking stick

The sun still shines on that little window seat
The little birds sing but there’s no one to hear
So much nostalgia and loneliness left behind
In the heart of that old wooden chair

© Susie Swanson, 2014

 Thought I'd better post something to let ya'll know I'm still alive and kicking. I'm still a long ways from kicking high but I'm getting there. I've missed ya'll and hope to be back soon. . Many thanks for the prayers. God Bless, Susie


  1. THIS is a gem. A treasure. And I feel every word you created. And now, I will be remembering, Come on home, it's supper time. The sentiment is spot on with things I myself feel and know. Things I have seen and appreciated or took into my heart. Thank you. xoxox

  2. Hi Susie. That's quite a bit of reminiscing about the old days. Those were the hard, but good times. Keep up the writing and we'll keep praying for you to get better.

  3. This beautiful poem has brought tears to my eye's dear Susie. Such beauty lives in your heart...I know that the Lord dwells there. Love you my friend! Thank you for these wonderful poems and memories. I think of some of my own relatives that were farmers...Their memories of hard working days while resting on their porch with their husbands and wives when the days work was over. God Bless you Susie. xo

    1. Awe, thank you so much sweet friend. God bless you as well!!

  4. Susie, Your poems take me back in time. When I had my folks and they had all us kids at home. Hard times are tough on a kid growing up....but the love makes us wish we could go back for just one more day. xoxo,Susie

  5. Another wonderful poem, Susie. Thinking of you. Hope you feel better soon.