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The Rocking Chair

Rating: 4.4

It was our first night in the old West Virginia cabin.
It had been built around 1770 and was made entirely
from hand-hewn logs and you could still see the
deep and shallow chisel marks, the cuts and level lines from the
planers and the hammers and the saws that had been used
to clear the land and build the modest small cabin by the creek.

But that night, our first night, we had been woken by
a soft creaking noise, but as I have 10 cats and 7 dogs,
well, noise abounds and crashes are ignored and even

breaking glass gets a yawn. But it wasn’t really the creaking
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Theodora Onken 02 October 2005

Love this poem Sandra...where in the world have you been? Theo

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Pradeep Dhavakumar 29 September 2005

Nice poem. Used the rocking chair well. Luckily, It was a Good ghost..else..

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David Gerardino 29 September 2005

GREAT poem, ..........................

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