Old Wheat Bag
Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 2:42 pm
A call in the dark and I was awake,
A day of woodcutting with my Dad, what a lucky break!
I dressed with excitement for the day ahead,
I gulped down my porridge and got a kiss on my head.
The sun was just breaking as we left for the day,
All piled in the truck, men for work and children for play.
As the light broke in the heavens, the sun warming the ground,
I watched the big reds jump across the dusty mound.
Then a call from out of the blue that we were close to our fields,
And to get ourselves ready for our daily deals.
I readied myself with excitement and prepared for the stop,
Looking down my little heart sank because of what I had forgot.
Two bare feet looked up at me, they were not prepared for this day,
They were out and free and I couldn’t go back as this day was well underway.
My father turned to check on me but what could I say,
Who forgets their shoes, you wear them every day.
The children left the truck and ran wild, happy and free,
Their squeals of excitement echoed in and out of the ghost gum trees.
The men unpacked their tools and started with their work,
My dad looked at the children and noticed I was not running berserk.
He turned to the truck and called for me to join the kids in their fun,
I just tried to disappear because of the sadness of what I had done.
I looked at the burrs and considered the pain,
At the ripe old age of 5 it was just too much to contain.
My eyes filled with tears, this day would be very long,
My father then asked me: “Johnny, what’s wrong?”
I showed him my feet and he said “That’s nothing bad,
We will soon fix that little problem with an old wheat bag”.
With needle and string, a stitch here and there,
He made me two shoes that were far beyond compare.
The rest of the day is quite a blur,
My handmade shoes maybe gone but I concur:
Things will go wrong, mistakes will be made but love is what sews it together and keeps things from going astray.
A day of woodcutting with my Dad, what a lucky break!
I dressed with excitement for the day ahead,
I gulped down my porridge and got a kiss on my head.
The sun was just breaking as we left for the day,
All piled in the truck, men for work and children for play.
As the light broke in the heavens, the sun warming the ground,
I watched the big reds jump across the dusty mound.
Then a call from out of the blue that we were close to our fields,
And to get ourselves ready for our daily deals.
I readied myself with excitement and prepared for the stop,
Looking down my little heart sank because of what I had forgot.
Two bare feet looked up at me, they were not prepared for this day,
They were out and free and I couldn’t go back as this day was well underway.
My father turned to check on me but what could I say,
Who forgets their shoes, you wear them every day.
The children left the truck and ran wild, happy and free,
Their squeals of excitement echoed in and out of the ghost gum trees.
The men unpacked their tools and started with their work,
My dad looked at the children and noticed I was not running berserk.
He turned to the truck and called for me to join the kids in their fun,
I just tried to disappear because of the sadness of what I had done.
I looked at the burrs and considered the pain,
At the ripe old age of 5 it was just too much to contain.
My eyes filled with tears, this day would be very long,
My father then asked me: “Johnny, what’s wrong?”
I showed him my feet and he said “That’s nothing bad,
We will soon fix that little problem with an old wheat bag”.
With needle and string, a stitch here and there,
He made me two shoes that were far beyond compare.
The rest of the day is quite a blur,
My handmade shoes maybe gone but I concur:
Things will go wrong, mistakes will be made but love is what sews it together and keeps things from going astray.
