That old rocking chair
A whistle from another room, a few words of a song,
I would hear your voice and come running along.
I jump into your lap, frighten you with cheer,
You would simply caress my back and say “oh dear”.
“Where are you going?” you would always ask,
“Don’t know my father I just have time to pass.”
“Be careful and steer clear of trouble he would often warn,
Watching over me from the very day that I was born.
Sleeping as he rocked so many times he did,
I would play fun and steal the hat for his balding head.
Not a word of scorn was ever cast my way,
Not at the beginning, not even your last day.
That rocking chair sits still, how I miss your song,
I feel all alone where do I belong?
I know you wish the best for me to live a happy life and do what I can,
Raise a family of my own and be a good man.
You are my true father as I am your son,
I will continue your wishes your every one.
I will be the man you hoped I’d become,
to honor your name I have already begun.
I am beginning to see that your spirit lives on,
So I will dry my tears and then move on.
I’m not sad anymore I feel your right here,
Singing that song, in that old rocking chair.