THE RETURN

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