Sofa Poetry

Sofa poetryApril is a very special month for poetry.  First of all, it’s officially National Poetry Month.  Second, William Shakespeare, aka the greatest poet in the English language, turns 448 this month.  While no one is entirely certain of Shakespeare’s true birth date, we do know that he was baptized on April 26, 1564 and April 23 is often cited as his date of birth (curiously, it’s also the day he died in 1616).

So to honor William Shakespeare and National Poetry Month let’s have a look at some great poems about a great subject: sofas!

“Ode to a Couch” by CG3H3

I see your leather shining
in the sun, so inviting
and fluffy I must sit in you
the way I sink into your depths
the way you make that squeaking sound,
oh couch I love the way you are.
I love you from your soft armrests
Down to your reclining back.
When I sit in you and lean back
I feel as if I was floating on a cloud
When I lay my head on your arm
I try not to fall asleep.
Couch, when I am sad
you are there for me,
you let me cry
into your arm.
Couch, when I am sick
you are the one who supports me.
Couch, when I am afraid
you are the one I seek shelter in.
Couch, oh couch,
When everyone is gone
you are there
to support me (literally).

“Comfortable Old Chair” by Karla Kushkin

A bird has a nest
A fox has lair
A den is a home
If you’re a bear.
I have a comfortable old chair.

Soft pillowed blue,
a flowered cloud,
The perfect place to read aloud
to myself or silently
letting long words run over me,
letting the stories I have read
make moving pictures in head.
New chairs are nice
but mine is best.
My spot to think in
brood in
to plot in
dream in, many dreams,
to scheme a few outlandish schemes in.
Kings need crowns to be the king
but me
I can be anything
any person
if I just have my book and chair.

“Warm Soft Sofa” by Michael Estabrook

Where has all the energy gone
I had when I was younger,
the curiosity
to experience new things,
to plumb the depths of the ocean,
like a deep-sea diver,
to feel every breeze
cool upon my neck and brow?

Where has the drive gone
to test myself,
find my limits, to cross
into boundaries unknown?

I’m not sure, but I suspect
none of that is here
on this warm soft sofa
where I find myself with my wife
at the end of every tired, long,
and lugubrious day.

Photo Credit: Nuchylee

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