Mother's Chair

Eleven. Nay, ‘twas nine who lived, For two were swept away from care Before their childish feet could lead Them to the comfort of that chair. ‘Twas in a humble home that we That mottled band, though unaware Of what each future path would be, Sought comfort at our mother's chair. An ample lap, a gentle hand Laid on a tousled head of hair, A strength we did not understand - We learned ‘twas found at Mother's chair. Although above our senses swirled The echoes of a family's care, Baby wails and childish quarrels Were muted at that tranquil chair. No need for words, it was enough To demonstrate the need was there; Each found the comfort that they sought In Mother's lap, at Mother's chair. Though cold winds howled without the door, And duties may have left it bare, When ears would ache or hearts were sore Still there was healing at that chair. Through many lands my feet have strayed And suffered aches beyond compare; In memory now I serenade The healing balm of Mother's chair. Should but one wish be mine to give To suffering children everywhere, I would request that they might live In nurture of a mother's chair.