"In a quiet room where shadows dance,
A wooden chair stands in a humble stance.
Carved from oak with a craftsman's grace,
It holds tales of time in its sturdy embrace.

Smooth and worn, with a patina's sheen,
A sentinel of memories, tranquil and serene.
From morning sun to the midnight air,
It cradles dreams with a tender care.

Each grain tells a story, etched in wood,
Of laughter shared and moments understood.
In the silent echoes of creaks and sighs,
Lingers the echo of heartfelt goodbyes.

Through seasons of change, it remains steadfast,
A witness to the present, a relic of the past.
In its wooden arms, burdens find reprieve,
As souls rest and solace they receive.

Oh, humble chair, with legs firm and strong,
You've seen the weak, the weary, and the strong.
With a back that leans against the test of time,
You stand as a testament to life's paradigm.

A sanctuary in simplicity, a haven of repose,
Where tales are woven and inspiration flows.
In your embrace, solitude finds a friend,
As thoughts meander, and contemplations blend.

So, let us honor this wooden throne,
A steadfast companion, standing alone.
In its simplicity, a profound grace,
The wooden chair, a timeless embrace."

Wooden chair - 1467

The best teacher is wrong - Noah 2025