I'm very old and ornate,
I'm not allowed to tarnish.
I'm not second rate,
My iron is painted, my wood is varnished.
I provide a valuable service,
To the masses,
The happy, sad, bold and nervous,
The four-legged, the Lads and the Lasses.
Some flop like a sack,
Some, gingerly - fearful that I might crack.
I could tell you a story or two,
But to me it's all a bit deja vu.
Fat, thin, tall and short,
They all come to me for support.
Why? because I'm a seat,
And those who rest on me all have tired feet.
©Kris Prevel
13 September, 2013
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