Silence

He loves to sit and listen,
To the night-bird and the quail.
The wind, and to the crickets,
But! The silence, it prevails.

The silence, is rather special,
To a man who's all alone.
It makes him think and ponder,
About the things that he has known.

His mind goes back to younger days,
When he was just a lad.
He thinks about those happy days,
When things were not so bad.

But his eyes are growing dim now,
And his hearing's not the best.
His back is bent, his legs are weak,
It's time he had a rest.

It's time to have a rest he says,
I would really like to go.
And meet my mum and dad again,
Who died so long ago.

He lies upon his dusty swag,
And wipes the tears from his eyes.
Then dreams about the happiness,
He had in days gone by.