The 20 minute chair
I have in my office, right near my door,
a regular old chair, nothing much more.
As a volunteer guide, I find that more often than not,
that chair seems to be just the right spot.
For co-workers, friends, those right off the street
but most important of all those who must rest their feet.
The volunteers that I have find comfort, compassion, laughter and more,
in that chair that I have right by my door.
For 20 minutes a piece, those folks seem to love,
the comfort it gives, more than the heaven’s above.
It could be a joy or sorrow, pleasure or pain,
or sometimes it’s just gossip simple and plain.
Not a day does go by when my chair is not taken,
the stories it hears cannot be mistaken!
The stranger, the longer, the more passionate it seems,
their stories become with faces that beam.
Now I love my volunteers as my family here,
but work seems to stop when “plop” goes their rear.
Mary who loves her dog and praises me as her outlet to life
and Peter who comes at the behest of his wife.
Fran who sings for the nursing home floor,
“old folks”, he calls them and he’s 94!
Dave is a youngster, who started out as a teen,
and plans on volunteering for all time unforeseen.
Syl and her dog who come every week,
Maggie is wagging and prancing her feet.
The lady whose family’s forgotten about
is here twice a week (or more than I can count!)
The teens that come in all summer, excited by what they’ve seen,
are off back to school but that chair is not empty… (if you know what I mean.)
The chair by my door is a welcome abode
to those who give of their time, talent all down the road.
When they sit in that chair there’s a connection they feel between them and me,
and that’s why, that chair’s going to be…
Right by my door for 20 minutes a time,
hearing all those volunteer stories with or without reason or rhyme.