Dad's Come Home

Weekends were special in our house.
That was when dad came home.
His journeyman labor was rough on us all.
He just never knew where his job bade him roam.

He did what he did... What he had to do
For food on the table, clothes on our backs.
He fought and he struggled to make our lives better,
Taking the strain that hard labor exacts.

But no matter how far his travels would take him,
How hard the journey back home was required,
Weekends were his and ours together.
He was never too busy,
Never too tired.

Saturday morning...  Crack of dawn...
Mother was up... Breakfast was done...
No time to dawdle...  Too much to do...
No sleeping in today... Dad's come home.

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