'In The Cushions Of My Sofa' Poem by Linda Winchell

I was about to replace, our old sofa
but it had become, my familie's freind.
But the springs were now popping through the cushions!
pinching, mine and dad's rear ends!

As I lifted up the cushions, it revealed a life, unto its own!
It was more than springs and fabrics weave
beneath those cushions, of soft dense foam.

I had found baby Johnnie's, first teething ring
and some change, amongst its ruins.
I even found a piece, of what looked like meat?
now looking like, some sticky dried up prune!

Then a tiny dirty white sock appeared
I think it was, little Johnnies or maybe Sue Anns?
Dare I discard it now, our old family sofa freind?
Or repair it, with new fabric,
in my favorite colors, of browns and tans?

We tend to live, in a throw away world!
replacing and tossing, all we dearly once had loved!
Instead of reparing and treasuring it all
the time and comfort it gave
with its, soft of cushions hugs.

I think I'll just keep, this family relic
and get those repairs, much needed done.
Then sit with my family, each night after supper
placing more memories, between its cushions
with those, little butt shoves of love!