The old man stood at his garden gate and looked down the country lane,
And he looked for a well-known face he loved, but many a year in vain.
For Bill, his son, had gone to sea and left the old home behind,
For the song of the sea, of foreign ports, and adventure had filled his mind.

The man’s step grew slow and his hair turned white as they waited every day
And many a tear was shed in the house since Bill had gone away.
And brown-eyed Mary, she waited long and many a time said, “No“
When others had asked for her hand, for Bill had told her he loved her so.
Down on the bridge, o’er the rushing stream, he’d said, „Will you wait for me?“
And she said,“I’ll wait, though the time be long when you have gone to sea.“

* * * * * * * * * *

Well, where is Bill, all this long time – behind dark prison bars
With grey stone walls, a bed of straw and a view of sky or stars.
For all the temptations of a seaman’s life had led him to the bad,
And practised hands had tricked and deceived the weak-willed country lad.
One day Bill sat in dejection and gloom, looking down at the floor
When he heard footsteps approaching and a key turned in the door.
It was the chaplain with greying hair and shrewd but kindly face
Who came to visit, to have a chat, and tell of the Saviour’s grace.

And as he read in Luke 15 about the Prodigal Son
Bill thought it fitted his story well, like none other could have done.
„But it’s too late now, Sir,“ he cried, „I think it’s too late for me!“
„Never too late! The Father waits and Jesus will set you free!“
Then as they knelt on the bare stone floor, God’s power came in that cell,
Made a new creature out of Bill and gave him fresh hope as well!

* * * * * * * * * *

„O Mother, look here,“ the old man cried, „here’s a letter from our Bill.
He wants to know if we forgive and if we love him still!“
Imagine the rejoicing in the cottage-kitchen there,
Thanking the Heavenly Father for the answer to their prayer!
The old man went in the garden and made everything just right –
All must be looking spick and span, for Bill was to come that night!
The mother went and prepared Bill’s room and put plants on the window sill,
Then sent a message to Mary, in the cottage over the hill!

The old man stood at his garden gate and looked down the country lane
And he looked for a well-known face he loved, but this time, not in vain!
And the Heavenly Father is waiting still for all who have gone astray,
Saying with loving, tender voice: „O, won’t you come home – TODAY?!“

Taken from Poems and Stories in Rhyme by Helen Jesze

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