The Home Coming

The Home Coming.
244.3

I put his roont in order, cleaned and tried to fix it,
Filled his old tobacco far and put it near his chair,
I knew his pet tobacco and the way he used to mix it,
And he’ll find his room is ready when he enters there.
I dusted off the pictures, surely they will please him,
The pictures that he left here when he started off to roam,
How many years he’s been away! my old arms ache to squeeze him,
Won’t my cup run over when my boy comes home!

He shall have the jell he liked always on the table.
He shall butter ginger bread as he used to do.
He shall find his memories are no hazy fable,
That mother’s skill in cookery is still as good as now.
He shall sit and tell us all that he’s been doing.
Work and play and loafing, travel “o’er the foam”
But his story doesn’t matter if his face I’m only viewing
While my heart is beating gladly. “Yes, by boy’s come home!”

Everything is ready, home shall warmly greet him.
Father, change your collar, for you’ve got to meet the train-
No, I shan’t go with you for I want to meet him,
Meet him at the gateway as he comes along the lane,
There he comes, my dearie, big and strong and smiling,
Changed from youth to manhood since he left the “parent loam,”
But he’s still my boy unaltered, and his eyes are still beguiling-
My, but it’s good to see you! Yes, my boy’s come home!
-Berton Braley.