Her ancient armchair, old sheets covering it,
Draping memories of long ago over it.
Vibrant colour peeking out the bottom,
Shows her feelings for her family,
My family, not gone but faded,
Around the chair,
Times change,
Memories spill gently against the
The wall, decorated recently:
Bouncing on springs, the ones she sat on,
Singing a whispered song,
Sleepy daydreams floating by
The soft summer sun beams on my back.
I snuggle closely against the,
Colourful fabric, head on shoulder,
Not now, but with her memories, long ago.
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