First Light

First light of dawn Uphill I walked it was still dark, had to be at the farm a five, milking time. Hard westerly wind makes the climb tough soon the cattle will be mooing in their pens, the boss grumpy, I'm hungry and no time to eat; milking eight cows by hand is no joke. End of the last hill I see the farm, there is light in the kitchen, Emma, my dog, barks, stops when she hears my steps, ten to five, morning light I stop and catch my breath, they are not going to think that I was hasting for them I'll have a quick mug of coffee a slice of ham, just like any other day, they will wonder and the maids whisper, but not ask where and with whom, I spent the night.