Suppertime

Many years ago in days of childhood
I used to play till evening shadows come
Then winding down an old familiar pathway
I heard 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"

Some of the fondest memories of my
Childhood were woven around suppertime
As the shadows grew long in the evening
And the birds start to wing their way home
I knew it wouldn't be long until my mom would
Call from the backsteps of the old home place
"Come on home, son, it's suppertime"
Well, sir, it didn't take much persuasion to get we hungry children
To pull in our kites, put up our toys, and start for home
But those days are gone now
But the memory of them begin to weave a truth into the warp of my soul
That is even more thrilling than the memory of those childhood days
For I'm sure and it won't be long
Until we hear the suppertime call from the portals of glory
And then we'll put away the things of this life
As we did when we were children
And heed the call for the greatest suppertime of them all
With all of God's children and with Jesus

We're going home at last