The clinking and clanging
Of stainless steel pots
The gushing tap water
Preparation of pork hocks
The sizzle of meat
As it hits the hot oil
The smell of fresh thyme
Water coming to boil
The chop chopping of knives
Veggies cut on aged board
The dip and the taste
Just nodding, no words
The meal is soon ready
She makes final checks
Puts plates on the table
Stands back and inspects.
A glance at the clock
Final smooth of the linen
A quick look in the mirror
Start the record player spinning
There is a knock on the door
Ah, he is finally here
Moving quickly to the foyer
Down the split landing stair
She smelt his cologne
A strange pleasant scent
Of musky lemon notes
Not sure what this meant
But opening the door
It was finally revealed
A bouquet of white lilies
Wrapped in soft tissue teal
He was finally here
Her hero, her knight
The sojourn was ended
No more dark, lonely nights
No longer a boy
With soft baby features
But a man of pure strength
Scholar once, now a teacher
“My son, my sweet son
At last, you have come home”
“Yes Mama, I’m here
No more do I roam”
The tears flowed both ways
No care for those around
Her son had returned
He was back safe and sound
With love they embraced
The earth stood quite still
She was proud of her boy
Her King on the Hill
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