My Grandma owned a rocking chair, <br />Where she would rock me fast to sleep. <br />She'd pick me up when cranky I'm told, <br />And then rock, till ner a peep! <br /> <br />I can hear the words she last spoke to me, <br />That when my feet hit the floor. <br />'You will be too big to rock my dear, <br />And Grandma won't rock you anymore.' <br /> <br />I now have my Grandma's chair today, <br />It was willed for me to own. <br />I have rocked my children in my arms, <br />As Grandma did me long ago. <br /> <br />It creeks a bit as I rock I've noticed, <br />But it's music to my ears. <br />For I still remember Grandma's voice, <br />As she whispered prayers into my ears. <br /> <br />Her voice was soft, I remember now, <br />Of the love she professed for me. <br />I miss you Grandma very much, <br />And the love I shared with thee. <br /> <br />Rock-in chair, don't fail me now! <br />For there is more of me and you. <br />My children's feet don't yet hit the floor, <br />We've got much more rockin yet to do!<br /><br />Linda Winchell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grandma-s-rocking-chair/
