A THRONE TO GRACE

The fireside chair
Well beaten, torn
For decades by
Your body worn
After work
During holidays
Your pride of place
A throne to grace.

Now set to be thrown
Upon the heap
Of your keepskes
Their end to meet
In landfill
Or bonfires flame
The old house cleared
Never again the same.

But I wonder if
In time now passed
Another dimension
The eye is cast
Will you live still
Trapped in space
Sat upon that chair
A throne to grace.