The old rocker creaks
to speak its mind -
the behinds its held
through too long nights.
String pulling kittens,
napping dogs,
teething babies,
and diapered dolls.
Heartbroken girls
kindergarten to grown.
Giggling girls
just glad to be home.
The old rocker creaks
just doing its job
for a third generation -
the throne of a mom.
Written for Hedge's 3 prompt, but posted late to the Tuesday Platform at Real Toads
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
13 comments:
Such is what makes a house a home.
Ah, love this.
Through the generations of heart and home, "the throne of a mom". Every mom had "her chair", even if it does not rock. I do love the quiet truth of this Mama Zen.
Luv that last line quite a summary
Happy Tuesday
much love...
That old rocker could tell some tales, especially so as it has rocked three generations. Wonderful, Mama Zen!!!
Love that. I rocked all three of my children and all six of my grandchildren. I still like to rock even when it is just me.
Lovely write MZ :D
loved reading this !
A rocking chair is an iconic emblem of womanhood.
Aw, love this. I have two rockers in which I rocked my babies, and I was rocked in both as a babe myself. Love that.
The rocker connects the life journeys of generations. Love this.
I adore this, from the first line to the last. (I think you even posted a picture of your rocker here once.)
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