I am one who likes sit and dream
Or hold a child while I read to her.
I have supposed only a mother might invent a rocking chair,
To meet the need to lull a child to sleep
In an easy gentle way.
Who made this chair?
It was long ago, that I know.
Did he work long hours in a factory
with mullioned windows and dim light?
Did he take time to rock a child to sleep at night?
This chair has been with me many years.
I was the lucky one to find it
On the third floor of a Salvation Army store.
The leather seat, then torn and dusty,
is now repaired with autumn-colored plaid
To match the golden oak.
I have read my children many books in this chair
Rocked them to sleep in my arms.
That has made my life and theirs
Something worth living.

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