Ode of the Ottoman

C&S-20-2

C&S-29I am the ottoman.
As if anyone cares.
I feel so unloved.
I am rife with despair.

You say “What a great couch” or
“Your table – it’s neat!”
Yet when it comes down to me,
I’m just a place for your feet.

C&S-26-2Half of you think I’m a
stool or divan – the other
half ends up
spelling me wrong.

No one cares I have roots
from a long ago date
when the Ottoman Turks
gave me fabrics ornate.

C&S-25-2The English, they saw what the
Turks had created, and called
me an ottoman, as
“footstool” was dated.

The Egyptians were fun,
Oh they loved me, too –
I graced everyone’s home,
from the pharaohs to fools.

C&S-24-2I was loved by the Romans,
adored by the Greeks – but when
I made my way to Europe
my future got bleak.

The climate was nasty,
the humidity no good.
It destroyed my whole family
by wrecking our wood.

C&S-23-2I enjoyed a brief bout in the
early 1800s, when the
onset of design fairs
brought attention like thunder.

I was oohed, I was ahhed as the
greatest thing yet – I was
spruced up with leather
and sold as a set.

C&S-22-2My dear friend Mr. Chair kept me
company as a pair – but alas my
15 minutes disappeared
in thin air.

That’s not fair! I declare
as we bring sweet relief.
Just give us a chance — we’ll
sweep you off your feet.

Give the ottoman the love it deserves – head down to Laurie’s today!

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