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Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Rock On

 
   
My Rocking-Chair

When I am old and worse for wear
I want to buy a rocking-chair,
And set it on a porch where shine
The stars of morning-glory vine;
With just beyond, a gleam of grass,
A shady street where people pass;
And some who come with time to spare,
To yarn beside my rocking-chair.
Then I will light my corn-cob pipe
And dose and dream and rarely gripe.
My morning paper on my knee
I won't allow to worry me.
For if I know the latest news
Is bad,--to read it I'll refuse,
Since I have always tried to see
The side of life that clicks with glee.

And looking back with days nigh done,
I feel I've had a heap of fun.
Of course I guess that more or less
It's you yourself make happiness
And if your needs are small and few,
Like me you may be happy too:
And end up with a hope, a prayer,
A chuckle in a rocking-chair.

~Robert William Service

3 comments:

Patsy said...

Reading this I could see my grandfather sitting on his porch in the rocking -chair he made smoking the corn cob pipe he made.
I have a photo of this.
"I loved that man"
Thanks for the memories

Terry said...

What a sweet poem.
Jo, I can't imagine how scary it must have been when your Yorkies went missing at DIA! So glad you were reunited.

L. D. said...

That is a nicely carved chair. I like chairs like that. I at first thought it looked like one of mine and then I saw the rest of the design.