Ode to a White Chair

You’ve travelled far,

My wooden friend

And you’ve lived long.

*

You began in Cornwall,

You started in Hayle

In a lovely hotel bar is

Where begins this tale.

*

My great-aunt Kathleen owned you,

Along with many others,

Many a bottom sat on you

Men, quenching their thirst.

*

In her hotel bar you stood,

dependably there for a weary traveller

With your lovely firm support,

you always hoped to dazzle her.

*

For many years you served them well

All who came and sat and rested

When great aunt Kathleen deemed to retire

Her sister, Eileen, requested

A chair

So now to Kent you went

A family home, not what you expected.

*

She cleaned you up and rubbed you down,

Her sandpaper a bit abrasive

Before you were a burnished brown

But with paint you were invaded.

*

She carefully coated you once,

Then twice,

So now, in purest white you reigned

Over the bathroom of many a tryst.

*

Plenty of seats were sat

On you, while they had a chat

One in the bath, one on the seat -

Sometimes it was just the mat

You had to talk to

Fancy that!

*

When Eileen passed,

You were removed

Forward to Essex

Ending life? No, just reproved.

*

In a busy kitchen, you

Were a regular seat,

Everyone sat on you

And thought you rather neat.

*

Until the day you were replaced

And then you travelled by car

Hundreds of sunny country miles,

As Scotland is so very far.

*

And now you are piled close to me

In my bedroom, pink and frilly,

And although you are tattered and aged

I will let you live tranquilly.

*

You are as old as me my friend,

Maybe a little older,

And you’ll be here until the end.

Or, could be a little longer.