the old parlor stove

By Willa Wick in Poetry & Literature

We gathered around the ole parlor stove
Enjoying its warmth and its smell
The family meeting place nigh every night
Was the comfort of home where we dwell.

The ole parlor stove stood tall and proud
A haven from wind and the cold
We stoked ‘er up with well dried wood
That’s a story often retold.

The ole parlor stove adorned every home
If out in the morn – what a shame
Poor shivering ma with paper and match
Would try to rekindle the flame

Crosscut saws and horse drawn sleighs
Gave way to machines of less toil
Stovepipes, pokers, dampers, and wood
Have been replaced by oil

Nothing can change the memory
The dust, or perfume of wood
The antique stove is gone now
We held on as long as we could.