Going round the back street. <br />Through the silent lane, <br />While the folks at church meet, <br />Coming home again. <br />Faded hat and creasy, <br />Long since it was new. <br />Tent-fly torn and greasy, <br />Bluey showing through. <br />Billy burnt and battered, <br />Boots all badly burst, <br />Lace and lace holes shattered, <br />Trousers at their worst. <br />Blankets like a riddle, <br />With a streak of white <br />All along the middle <br />When against the light. <br />Young face lined and sunburnt, <br />Hair just turning grey, <br />Many a lesson unlearnt <br />Since he went away. <br />But he need not bother <br />For a bite and sup <br />And for all the other <br />Mother'll fix it up.<br /><br />Louisa Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/coming-home-50/
