Skip to main content

Grandma's Rocking Chair by Barbara A. Whittington

I'm recovering from acute bronchitis. All I've done the last few days is think about writing but not actually writing. My time has been filled with lots of Kleenex, coughing, breathing treatments, etc etc etc. Every day I feel a bit better. Come tomorrow I'll be well - I'm counting on it. In the meantime, while I'm not writing, I found this poem among my papers and thought I'd share  - it's a sentiment I wrote for our daughter Jill. Hope you enjoy. As always comments are very welcome. Hugs to all.

Grandma’s Rocking Chair

Grandma’s rocking chair -
passed on to our daughter -
headed for Wisconsin
loaded in a U Haul, nestled
between an antique secretary,
and a refinished dresser -
mirror long gone.

Our three year old triplet
grandchildren, faces pressed
to the window of the van,
wave good bye to me and grandpa
in the driveway, their tears
breaking our hearts.

Our daughter, Jill,
heavy with the child of her new husband,
hums to the children
And soon they are fast asleep.

The rocking will start
while baby is in the womb,
this new grandson of ours,
whose name before
he's even born, is Austin Cole.
He will learn from his mother
How rocking soothes the soul.
Nourishes the spirit.
Links us one to the other
And to generations past and future.
just as we were linked
as children forming the circle
for ring around the rosey.

-the end-
Comments Welcome!

Comments

  1. GailMay 5, 2015 at 10:02 PM

    What a beautiful poem.

    Heal quickly.

    ReplyDelete
  2. UnknownMay 6, 2015 at 9:56 AM

    Very heartfelt and very visual. I both feel it and see it in my mind.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Elizabeth VollstadtMay 17, 2015 at 12:56 PM

    Love the poem. I hope the rocking chair continues to be passed down, maybe to her daughter or a daughter-in-law. My daughter has the rocking chair I used to rock her and her brother. We bought it through an ad in the paper (remember those, before e--bay and Craigslist?). I hope it rocked many babies before we had it and will continue to do so for a long time.

    ReplyDelete
  4. UnknownMarch 30, 2018 at 6:37 PM

    Wonderful poem, love it !

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Building a story vs building a house

My latest book! Dear Writer:  Writing a story is somewhat similar to building a house. Or not! Remember this: when we give a piece of our story to someone to read - we expect them to see the whole. It's like building a house and offering a single piece of lumber to another builder. “Here, see the house I'm building.” SOME CAN SEE IT AND SOME CAN’T. Here's the thing: MOST CAN'T. This step is as necessary to me as breathing.  I need to give you single boards as I create them. AND I expect you to be a visionary and say, “Why yes. I see.”   I need you to see how special the piece of lumber is that I'm using and to see that eventually I'll add more pieces to make the whole.  Choose people to read your work who like the kind of stories you write.  There are as many kinds of stories as there are houses to live in. If you give a brick ranch to someone who only appreciates a cape cod then he'll have a hard time fitting hims...
7 comments
Read more

A Revolutionary New Diet...

Recently I went on a diet. Like most diets this one was scheduled around a major life event. My daughter's wedding. There would be no shopping for a mother-of-the-bride dress until the pounds came off. Typically I go on a diet on Monday and by Wednesday I've folded beneath the weight of a German chocolate cake. I've been hijacked by as little as a stale pink sugar wafer discovered in the dark recesses of the bread drawer. But this time things were going to be different. I could tell as I went to get the mail and discovered the first crocus of the season. Life was looking up. Even though an icy rain began to fall, my spirits weren't dampened. Not even when huge drops pelted me on the head and I had to dash inside. My latest plan would revolutionize dieting. If it worked for me it would work for the world. I smelled a book deal. I could see myself all made-over and liposuctioned sitting between Oprah and Dr. Oz. It was full speed ahead. Gone were those complex menus...
23 comments
Read more

The Red Christmas Cane/A poem

It's been so long since I've written a blog I'm not sure anyone will even come by. But if you do, know that I appreciate your reading. I was cleaning some files and found this Christmas poem I wrote years ago. So I'm recycling my work again. I love writing but have spent the last five months reading, reading, reading, hoping that by reading all sorts of different genres that my own writing will improve. I have to admit though when I get into a good/great story, I sink in and my writer self takes a leave of absence. I'm still working on the novel about Sweet Baby James, a baby abduction. Hoping I'm making the story stronger than any I've yet written. So here's my poem. Enjoy! Have a lovely beginning to your Christmas season and God Bless! THE RED CHRISTMAS CANE  I was walking around on an old cane that year Grumping and complaining that the holidays were here. I looked out my window and as far as I could see There were lights, stars, and ang...
9 comments
Read more