The Rocking Chair

Decades have passed, since I was made For thirty years I’ve creaked and swayed When she was born, who else was there? But I, the silent rocking chair. I watched as Mother nurtured Child Through naps and temper tantrums wild I rocked the babe with loving sighs As Mother sung sweet lullabies At half past noon, she’d calmly nap Atop my cushioned wooden lap Each day I watched her dance and play As Mom hummed softly and crocheted. As Baby’s crawl evolved to walk, As I first heard her try to talk As I saw her first missing tooth I watched her blossom into youth. Years had passed; I saw her less Last time, she donned a wedding dress I miss her smile and twinkling eye These years have flown so quickly by She has outgrown me; it is time No more play dates or nursery rhymes My seat is worn; my quilt has grayed My creaks grow louder every day Now Baby is a woman grown Expecting Child of her own In three short months, she’ll visit me And I shall rock her new baby. I’ll gently sway her to and fro Just like those moments years ago And when it’s time for her to part I’ll be her rocking chair at heart.