From the farm | Poets, Prophets, Madmen, Fools

Smells from the farm
Hung about him
As he entered,
Replete with stories
Of the day and all
Distasters that befell.

Each one punctuated
By the most cherubic grin,
Smile cast in heavens forge
About blond curly ringlets
As he stood, a force of nature
In our home.

Blue overalls and boots
Declaring his intention
For hard work, but now
In our lounge room
He relaxed
At home with friends.

We laughed about the day
And the breakdown of the tractor
The car that become bogged
In his dad’s old muddy field;
And laughed a little after
That he came to us like that

Completely there at home.
To come and visit us,
Regardless of his state,
In companionship with friends
To enjoy a well earned rest
At the ending of his day.