Her Old Rocker

I quietly sat in her rocker,
a squeaky and rickety chair.
With paint almost gone, it had weathered,
but no, I did not even care.

The folks in the yard were all browsing.
The yard sale was going quite well.
As people were browsing the items,
a man came and asked if I'd sell.

He asked if I'd sell her old rocker.
He asked me what I'd sell it for.
He gave a most generous offer,
then said he could pay a bit more.

I answered, "Her chair's not for sale.
My grandmother used it alot.
She held me as we both rocked gently
right here in this very same spot.

I turned back the years to my childhood.
It seemed it was just yesterday.
Through planting and summer and harvest,
she whispered in music this way,

"I love you just like Jesus loves you.
I'll hold you as long as I live.
And if you have faith in me darling,
I promise to always forgive."

The man smiled sincerely and stated,
"I can't afford one quite like that.
Your rocker there surely is priceless."
He left with a tip of his hat.

I smiled yet my eyes became dampened,
as visions of grandma came back.
She sat in this very same rocker,
when she had her last heart attack.

In Heaven she has a new rocker,
without all the paint worn away.
She holds a young child without mother
and whispers the very same way...

"She loves you just like Jesus loves you.
Regretting her choice, she'd relive.
But pray that she's trusting the Father,
He's faithful and sure to forgive."

I quietly sat in her rocker,
a squeaky and rickety chair.
With paint almost gone, it had weathered,
but no, I did not even care.

This poem won second place for the November 2013 poetry contest