The Blue Chair

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Fri, 02 May 2014
  • 3765 reads
13 comments
 
I’m too old to be your muse...
too old to be beautiful, and yet
you insist I am.  
 
Old, like
the library chair 
with the fraying arm – stands
in the hall by the bookcase.
 
Remember? We bought it
in Aberdeen; didn’t think
we’d ever get it through
our front door, but we did.
 
I love that chair – it’s soft,
and comfortable – holds
me just right when I sit to read.
 
A beautiful girl you say I am
despite being older than
middle aged...
 
just back,
from running out to feed 
the newly-hatched chicks...
 
still in my nightdress, at
half-past midday.
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Love

Comments

Submitted by Canonette on

Lovely, you imbue an object with character and feeling and at the same time paint a touching portrait of a relationship.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

My sincere thanks to you, Canonette. So very pleased you enjoyedsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

This is so simply put and gorgeous. When I got to the end I just went straight back and read it again. Love this poem, Tina. And that painting is lovely, too. 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thank you, Bee...one of those poems that just 'tumbled out' the more I thought about it.  So pleased you enjoyed, and your comment is heartwarmingsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Beautiful and comfortable, sprightly, and certainly not in a routine rut! Enjoyed your comfortable musing. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Your words just about sum it all up, Rhiannonsmiley  Thank you.

Tina

 

Submitted by jeand on

HI Tina

I loved the simplicity of this - the message of love across the years came over loud and clear.

Jean

Jean Day

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thank you, Jean.  Much obliged to yousmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

A forever relationship is as fitting as a comfy chair and the luxury of a night dress at noon and an artist that knows beauty isn't youth but compassion. Stunning.

I always fondly jest my partner for bringing uncool cumbersome flasks of tea whenever we go out for a day trip - call him Roy Cropper. Nothing makes me realise how precious he iswhen I'm bone cold with skeleton rattling, in some dark forest forest or on a deserted beach, and he presents hot tea made with love and rescues me from blue skin. And I feel (momentarily) bad for the Roy Cropper mockery. Sorry to go on, but this 'got me.' 

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Vera - when you 'go on' as you so delightfully put it, you are at your bestsmiley   And here's to all the Roy Cropper's...everywhereyes

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

laugh

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

I couldn't resist reading this poem Tina.  A poem that holds so much meaning to anyone who holds a loved one dear, and a passed memory.

Very much enjoyed.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Jenny, I so appreciate you reading my stuff, and leaving such wonderful comments, always.

Tina