Unsung Heroes #1: Ode to My Recliner

(My beloved)

I thought it was high time I paid homage to one of my dearest and most faithful friends—an unsung hero in my life—my recliner.   We take our recliners for granted, I think, but when we pause to ponder the pivotal part they play in our lives, we realize how often we overlook these stalwart and steady companions.  They demand nothing—yet give so much—never complaining about the…ahem…heavy burdens they bear.  They’re always there, waiting to comfort us at the end of a long, hard day.  They rock us to sleep, bearing us away to the Land of Sweet Slumber—like a magic carpet ride, only better.   So…all hail to thee, my beloved friend, my staunch and steadfast comrade.  I dedicate this poem to you…

(To any high-brow and high-falutin’ academic types out there who might read the following poem and be appalled at the sheer banality of “Ode to My Recliner,” well….it was meant to be funny, in case the preceding paragraph doesn’t clue you in.   I almost never write “serious” poems any more because I’m completely intimidated by those of you who sniff at poets who are accessible, especially those of us who haven’t taken one of your high-brow college poetry classes.   I would especially like to thumb my nose at those of you who disparage poet Billy Collins because you feel his poems are trite because regular people like me CAN ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND THEM!   Because when I read a completely obscure and ambiguous poem (like so much of modern poetry),  I feel as though the person who wrote it is showing contempt for us ordinary folks by willfully seeking to obfuscate.  I like poetry that leaves room for joy and delight and surprise, and poetry that we can all take pleasure in.  I love Billy Collins.  He got me reading poetry again.)

Sorry, I got carried away—I’ll step down off my soapbox now.  Perhaps I should do a post on that. :-)  Anyway, here’s my tribute to my beloved Barcalounger.  Hope it gives you a laugh:

Ode to My Recliner

When the world seems hopeless and cold
You give blessed rest and console
My body and soul again made whole.

When I feel your soft touch on my weary face
And you enfold me in your sweet embrace,
I rest in your soft and welcoming grace.

As, weary, I gaze upon setting sun,
When my body and spirit are quite undone.
You carry me away to sweet oblivion.

Without judging, you greet me
Stout seat, you complete me
My retreat—my dear, sweet settee.

So let the world maltreat me,
Deplete and defeat me.
You receive and relieve me—sweet reprieve.

So give me a day of peace unencumbered
Please ease my way to the sway of sweet slumber,
My soft chairiot of sleep—my heart’s ease.

Oh, there is nothing finer than to be in Carolina
Supine in my recliner (oh, nothing is diviner!)
For none can outshine her—my beloved recliner.

[If my legs look huge here...well, please bear in mind perspective...where things closer to you appear larger than they really are  :-) ] 

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9 Responses to “Unsung Heroes #1: Ode to My Recliner”

  1. Margie Miller Says:

    We have a recliner too but we often vie for which one of us gets to sit in it.

  2. Judy Says:

    Hi Beth, You go girl! I love the poem. I don’t own a recliner but I have one of the sliding rockers that I love. I can say to Thomas Wyatt, “Do you want to rock a bye baby?” He runs to the rocker. lol. One of my daughters has this big old blue recliner that someone gave her and she won’t get out of it when she is home for anything. She sleeps in it half the time. She had some minor surgery not long ago and when we brought her home she got in the recliner instead of her bed! Great post. Have a good weekend.

  3. June Says:

    The poem gave me some chuckles…very clever! Does my memory serve me correctly in thinking that last year you had this sofa that was the focus of your love? Verrrrry interesting…. :-)

  4. Pat Says:

    We have two recliners that have been around for 20 some years. The navy blue leather swivel rocker recliner in the living room has developed a mind of its own. It usually chooses the amount of recline and direction it faces. In our bedroom I sit every morning in my mauve recliner to write in my journal. That chair is better behaved.

  5. Clara Melvin Says:

    Your recliner poem made me think of my pillow. I call it “My Best Friend.” It goes where ever I go. Sleep just will not come unless I have “My Best Friend” with me. We certainly can get accustomed to such things of comfort.

  6. marion Says:

    Oh so true! I just returned from two months spent with my daughter in Maine. She doesn’t HAVE a recliner!!! It felt SO good to get back to my one-level home and the welcoming recliner…

  7. Benjamin Says:

    I have my blue lounge chair/recliner; it makes me very happy. That is an excellent poem…

    I come home all tired and confused
    but the blue seat takes me in
    even if (by my weight) it feels abused
    it serves me well and makes me grin.

    One day I’ll get a real La-z-boy,
    and I’ll put the seat down
    but until I get that fancy toy,
    I go to the chair to lift my frown.

  8. Pam D. Adcock Says:

    I have some trouble with seeing your blog clearly with the latest release of Opera. Looks good in IE7 and Firefox though.Hope you have a lovely day.

  9. Unsung Heroes #2: Ode to Peanut Butter « Blue Ridge Blue Collar Girl Says:

    [...] we might take for granted. It was certainly no surprise to my family that my first post was an “Ode to My Recliner”.  I love that thing.  In fact, I sit in it so much that it bears the permanent indentation of my [...]

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