Bench with Sister's Memories. (Click capture for poem)
I’m just a little scruffy bench; I’ve been around for years
I’ve listen to so many laughs, but also many tears
I sit outside, through rain and snow, it isn’t very good
I need to be inside the house, or have a wooden hood
My owners used to sit on me, on the garden lawn
At night I had some visitors, a badger and a fawn
But they have gone above the clouds, in heaven they do rest
So I’ve been moved to pastures new, a front garden is my test.
It’s always busy on the road, from tractors and a bus
People walk along the path, they never give a fuss
I’m looking oh so shabby now; the wood is bent and drab
The metal legs are rusting through, the colours not so fab
So if we get some new wood planks, and make the seat look good
Get the metal frames replaced, and painted as it should.
My Sisters memories will remain, it was her seat she loved
And now it’s mine for me to rest, and dream of her above.
A great little bench - a few new planks and a lick or two of paint and it should look like new and fit to be in memory of your dear sister -- I am sure she would like that !
A very precious bench Heather….you won’t want to touch it much I suppose as those were the wooden planks are the ones your sister sat on….would new ones be the same I expect you’re wondering! I am so impressed with your poem writing…the words are very moving.
(nice capture)