Its worn fabric a map of the past;
Its essence unmistakable;
Its ambiance ever-present.
It evoked a thousand instant memories;

Memories inseparably woven . . .
Into the very being of the fabric.
Its creaks and squeaks
Old acquaintances making pleasant conversation.

Its touch and feel
The warm embrace
Of an intimate friend: Informal, yet all too familiar;
Familiar enough to provide support and respite;
Informal enough to instantly put one at ease.

Stress seemed to melt away with the vanishing
Distant thoughts of the day gone by . . .
As I drifted away . . . in the perfect security of my
Old familiar friend: My favorite . . . comfortable chair.

Copyright ©2002 - 2003 Jeff Mason