Old holy chair

I see from far and near
my grandpa's sleek, rocking chair.
it still sits idle in his chamber,
the old dear thing is one fond member.
'due care is given to timely enliven',
seems to be talking once it is shaken.
it looks like a throne ; over years grown,
the head is no more, now lies the 'crown'.
the kingdom yet runs, the olden days 're gone,
the sun still shines but not like it shone.
at my leisure, my feet reach me the chair,
i chat with him; unseen yet so clear.
then the old seat nods; unheard laugh soon comes,
the phantom figure springs up and firecly roams.
thus our daily talks go unfailingly to and fro,
hours fly Fast; stay the moments with 'the old bro'.
you may laugh and laugh at my daily folly.
that old chair brings him, that is so holy.