Poem Hunter
Come Home Son, Supper's Ready
GW (5/11/1947 / Kerrville, Texas, USA)

Come Home Son, Supper's Ready

Poem By George Wootton

Many years ago when just a boy
I would go outside to play with some toy.
I could be in the pasture or down by the creek
or perhaps in the trash dump, for more playthings to seek.
For hours on end sometimes I would be gone
never thinking at all of my mother at home.
When darkness approached and my stomach would growl
and the frightening sounds of an ol' 'hootie owl'
would interrupt playtime and the days adventures,
I would head for home and dread to hear mother's lectures.
As I drew close to home with the last rays of the sun
I could hear mom calling, 'come home boy, wash up, suppers' just about done'.
She would scold me and tell me how worried she'd been
and say 'I better not ever do that to her again'!
But as I grew older my adventures grew bolder,
sometimes for days they would last.
and just as before mom would stand by the door
and call as she had done in the past;
'Come home boy, wash up, your suppers' ready.
Hurry up son or I'll throw it out'!
But just as she feared there were no ears to hear
her pleading mother's shout.
Then as a young man with the whole world to discover,
to my country's defense I was called
and at each end of day, even though far away
I dreamed I could hear my mother's call.
'Come home boy, wash up, your suppers' ready,
we're all waiting for you to come in'.
But with tears in her eyes she silently cries,
praying for this adventure to soon end.
When safely back home as a full grown-up man
I must start a new life of my own
so once again mom would stand by the door
waiting for me to come home.
'Come home boy, wash up, your suppers' ready;
oh how I wish I could see you again.
This old house is so lonely without your smiling face
but on my love you can always depend'.
Down through the years, as I have come home to visit
with my family and now grandchildren as well,
mom still waits by the door to see us drive up
and her joy is expressed in her 'yell'.
'Come on in Y'all, wash up, your suppers' ready,
it's good to see all your smiling faces
I have waited so long for you to come home,
come on in now, your suppers' ready'!

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Comments (1)

Wonderful poem, George! Yes, being a mother I can see my son when he was just a little boy. Oh, the joy of those adventrous little guys! Very good poem! Marilyn