Going round the back street.
Through the silent lane,
While the folks at church meet,
Coming home again.
Faded hat and creasy,
Long since it was new.
Tent-fly torn and greasy,
Bluey showing through.
Billy burnt and battered,
Boots all badly burst,
Lace and lace holes shattered,
Trousers at their worst.
Blankets like a riddle,
With a streak of white
All along the middle
When against the light.
Young face lined and sunburnt,
Hair just turning grey,
Many a lesson unlearnt
Since he went away.
But he need not bother
For a bite and sup
And for all the other
Mother'll fix it up.
Louisa Lawson's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Coming Home by Louisa Lawson )
- empty without you, Liss March
- Synchronized Heartbeats, Jamal Brown
- New beginnings, Mary Bone
- If You Took The Time To Care, Ronell Warren Alman
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- Second class soul, Liss March
- Yes, I am on this wheel, gajanan mishra
- TWO LOVERS ON A PORCH IN THE MIDWEST, NICHOLAS CAMPBELL
- See and feel, gajanan mishra
- Am i here by virtue of the shadows, cristobal Benjumea
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