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The Antique

The Antique

Poem By michaeline coulter

They say there is tresure in an antique store
People say it's junk, but to me it's more
Stripped, varnished and handled with care
becaause I want to refinish this old chair
What stories could that old chair tell?
I'd fix it up beautiful, but I'll never sell
This old rocker has years on it still,
don't know what it's been through and I never will
I've now redone this old antique
i've made it look nice and oh so chique
I watch as my wife rocks our new baby in it
She says it's her most favorite place to sit
Now I go to the antique store to buy a baby bed, so my
baby can lay down his sweet head
Time goes by, my child grows old
The bed at last i've finally sold
I kept that old rocker, I sit in it stillSaid i'd never sell it
and I never will

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 1

Other poems of COULTER (10)

Comments (1)

I share your appreciation of antiques. Your poem expresses fine qualities. Durability and nurturing love are interwoven in this poem. I feel that you and the old rocker have a lot in common. Top marks from me.


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