The Chair Poem by Ershad Mazumder

Once it was a new rocking chair Once it was strong and without any care Once it was broken and in decline Once it was repaired to serve another time. Then it was put in a place of honour Then it was reserved for used after dinner Then it was used by most every guest Then it became a favored place to rest. Until it no longer was just simply a rocking chair Until those who came and carefully sat there Until it moved slowly back-and-forth Until it gave pleasure far beyond its worth. And yet it's just a product of craftsmen long ago And yet it is a favorite of those who know And yet it has an honoured place on the porch And yet it responds to every caressing touch. Then it became once again, new Then it was appreciated by not a few Then it gave as craftsman intended Then it is seen as a part of a tree, life extended.