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Array ( [sid] => 158970 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => My Mother's Chair [time] => 2010-04-16 14:09:31 [hometext] => Feelings generated by an heirloom of a mother [bodytext] => My Mother’s Chair

I walk into the room and it faces me.
Waiting in open embrace to soothe.
High-backed and winged in soft fabric.
I consider the alternative of the sofa
But looking again, I know my mind is set.

Almost laconically I approach and dust
Imaginary specks of dust from the seat with my hand.
The movement is slow to the point of a caress
And removing my jacket I lay it upon the floor.
I turn and lower myself into the welcoming arms.

As always, my eyes close and emotions well.
What is it about this vessel that is unique?
This is the only place I really express
The truth of my inner self, my hopes and fears.
It ia almost a sanctuary, a temple and a friend.

The back, arms and seat are warm and loving,
A virtual return to the womb and safety.
Strange that one can imbue an object
With the feelings of a parent’s protection.
Yet still I sit, thinking, neither sad nor happy, just safe.
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 215 [topic] => 48 [informant] => aliopterix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )

My Mother's Chair

Contributed by aliopterix on Friday, 16th April 2010 @ 02:09:31 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

My Mother’s Chair

I walk into the room and it faces me.
Waiting in open embrace to soothe.
High-backed and winged in soft fabric.
I consider the alternative of the sofa
But looking again, I know my mind is set.

Almost laconically I approach and dust
Imaginary specks of dust from the seat with my hand.
The movement is slow to the point of a caress
And removing my jacket I lay it upon the floor.
I turn and lower myself into the welcoming arms.

As always, my eyes close and emotions well.
What is it about this vessel that is unique?
This is the only place I really express
The truth of my inner self, my hopes and fears.
It ia almost a sanctuary, a temple and a friend.

The back, arms and seat are warm and loving,
A virtual return to the womb and safety.
Strange that one can imbue an object
With the feelings of a parent’s protection.
Yet still I sit, thinking, neither sad nor happy, just safe.

Copyright Â© aliopterix ... [ 2010-04-16 14:09:31]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: My Mother's Chair (User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on Friday, 16th April 2010 @ 04:25:12 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Such a beautiful write.
It's really amazing what will comfort one after they have left the material world.
her spirit will always be there to console you'
great writing and thoughts etc.
Huggs, blessings, luving memory's,
emy

Re: My Mother's Chair (User Rating: 1 )
by aliopterix on Friday, 16th April 2010 @ 09:47:57 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I would like to thank you very much for all the kind comments you have made about my poems. Thank you for bothering to take the time, it is VERY much appreciated.ALIOPTERIX.

Re: My Mother's Chair (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Saturday, 17th April 2010 @ 06:12:58 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

No matter what the circumstances of our childhood chronicles, or the people who were present, there is nothing quite like that of a mother's protection. We long for it like the night sky longs for stars. And it seems just as natural. It's wonderful that you can regard this "sanctuary" with the impression of safety. We all need a little of that in our lives. Well done, Al.

Seléne ~

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