We were talking about how the wind didn't seem so cold when we were kids out running and playing in the neighborhood, but it felt awfully good when the sun began to set and Mother would call us to come in for supper.
Many years ago in days of childhood
I used to play till evenin' shadows come
Then windin' down that old familiar pathway
I'd hear my mother call at set of sun.
Come home, come home it's suppertime
The shadows lengthen fast
Come home, come home it's suppertime
We're going home at last.
15 comments :
I love those words, come home it's suppertime. Reminds me so much of my childhood, we had to be home at suppertime!!
Dear Karen!I love visiting your gorgeous blog("Starry starry night...")with a stunning header and design and full of sweet memories and faith...Full of Christ's love.I am glad for meeting you and Mildred!Hugs!
I love your header, so Christmassy.
I also liked the image in your post, and the words and poem too.
So pleased you enjoyed a wonderful day.
All the best Jan
Your day sounds like it was lovely. I enjoyed this post.
So nice of Mildred to send you a gift. It never seemed that cold while playing outside when we were kids. Karen, I love your Header with the red poinsettia and the sparkly side bars. One of my favorites so far. Enjoy your library books!
~Sheri
I was just talking to someone the other day how much fun it used to be to stay out and play out in the cold and then come in to a nice warm house.
Your poem is so wonderful on more than one level. coming home at least really gave me a lump in my throat. A wonderful poem. I love your twinkling background! Sounds like you had a perfect day!
It was fun playing outside in the days gone by but give me a warm room with a good book these days. Sweet poem. Have a lovely evening.
Sounds like beautiful days, Karen..
Hugs, Ida
Hello, lovely memories and post. I remember those days of sledding and coming in from the cold. Wonderful poem! Enjoy your day and the weekend ahead!
Love the poem. Yes I would stay out playing for hours and the cold didn't really bother me. We would skate forever. But come supper time it was nice to get into the warm house. hugs, lj
Come home. When we were children, we played at the school yard a block away. Mother had a police whistle that she blew when it was dinner time. We could hear the call and headed for home. The trumpet will be blowing one of these days soon. Christmas is a wonderful time to celebrate families, and remember the birth of Jesus.
I love to hear George Younce sing this song and I remember fondly mother singing/humming this while cooking supper. xoxomewn
You just put a lump in my throat. My daddy used to sing that song with a men's quartet at church. That was always one of his favorites. Now he is home at last (since 2011)...
Blessed winter memories of childhood. Thank you.
I love the poem. I like your twinkle lights on the blog.
xx oo
Carla
Post a Comment