My old blue armchair
Is still there
By the wooden bookcase.
In that space
I sat and read
As the antique clock ticked
My day away.
,
Here, no clock ticks
And my need
Is for these antibiotic drips.
But how I miss
My old bookcase
And the ageing armchair where
I read the day away.
.
When I return again
To my own private place
The tick tock
Of my old clock
From high on the bookcase
Will teach me humility.
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
Wonderful ♥️
Thank you, Caleb. I’m pleased you like my poem.
So well written. I hope it’s not too long before you see your old blue armchair again, Kevin.
Thank you, Esther. I’m pleased you enjoyed my poem, and I also hope to see my old blue armchair soon.
I like this very much!
Thank you, Liz. I’m really pleased you like my poem.
You’re welcome, Kevin. 😊
Hauntingly familiar!
Have you had similar experiences Annette? I’m pleased you like and can relate to my poem.
You can’t beat an old, well-loved armchair and the tick tock of an old clock for soothing ruffled nerves and bringing calm. May you soon be in the place you belong.
You are right, Vivienne. I bought that chair (and matching sofa) over 30 years ago and both are still going strong! Thank you for your good wishes and comment.
I hope that you are very soon back home Kevin where you can continue your reflections on life that inform so much of your poetry and in the comfort of your old armchair to the relaxing sound of your old clock.
Thank you, John. I hope you and Beata are both keeping well.