There is something I like about wood.

As, one morning the chair was there;

just perched precariously upon a pile

of rubble left from our building work;

and where it came from I had no idea,

it had just been left there – an old chair,

waiting to be taken away and crushed.

So, I brought it down for a closer look.

Lifting it told me at once it was oak,

well-weathered, an outdoor chair.

I could see that all that was missing

from its back was a vertical slat,

that I easily replaced from my store.

So, I took the time to sand by hand,

taking care to preserve the grain.

Once smooth I applied a good varnish,

to protect it from future wind and rain.

It’s redeemed now, in our garden;

and I’m content to be sitting in it,

my hands resting along the arms;

and I like to think it will outlast me,

and by my doing some practical good,

I’ve preserved the life that’s still in its wood.

                                                      © D G Moody 2022