We always love seeing pictures of our chairs in action, but we’re kind of in love with the beautiful poem. Put the kettle on, and enjoy 🙂
By Hilit Jacobson, age 13
Dancing to the music,
the frayed chair balances on the cabin’s damp, weathered floor.
Bubblegum pink toenails dangle
over the top of my faded, blue Crazy Creek.
I close my eyes and
breathe in the sweet summer heat.
Memories of the past
flash through my mind.
sitting around the smoky, orange bonfire.
Each bubbly, young girl rocking,
Back and forth
back and forth
in her faded blue Crazy Creek.
Memories of us,
the cabin that always sticks together.
As we gaze up at the stars,
our seats laid out flat,
I soak in the joy and comfort my Crazy Creek has provided.
The patches of caked-on dirt,
and stains of spilled food
remind me of the magical moments my Crazy Creek holds.
Messages scribbled in black smelly ink
fill the front of my chair.
“I love you” they announce.
The weight of my body shapes the chair.
It is almost custom-made
to sit in.
For me to enjoy.
For me to bring along
through camp’s journeys.
As the two pieces of sturdy foam
connect in a line,
The seam holds a story.
A story like the ones little kids listen to before bed
about the fairies and princesses,
and the adventures they discover.
I sit here in my chair,
Year after year,
With my own story,
a new tale eager to be shared.