On the front porch a rocking chair
nobody uses no one dare
Nor dare they move it anywhere.
Grandpa decreed it must stay there
...
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Sometimes our family members live on. This poem made me think of a western movie, the old guy sitting on the verandah, rocking his chair and gaining the respect of his children and grandchildren. I could feel the fight of the grandfather to make his mark to get there. Us old folk feel that the respect and love of our descendants may continue long after we are gone. Great piece of writing, Ivor. George
An adeptly penned epic of a poem. Majestic and haunting. S :)
an eye opener for today's generation who treat people and things alike without any emotional affinity Sir, you have brought out that emotional attachment and affinity that should be associated with all things related to a person A person lives on in our lives through his belongings as well as wishes