She's the first one up at morning before the rising sun, She's the last one to go to bed after the day is done.

She will sit and listen when she's no one to hear, To things she doesn't want to do Say, "Yes, I'd love to, Dear."

She will ease the pain of others while holding hers, inside not let them know, of all the times She's sat alone and cried.


She will be a source of strength yet, gentle and caring expecting nothing in return for, all of her sharing.

She will be a fountain of love with, an eternal flow and when the light of life grows dim she must provide the glow.

She will be Mother and Grandma Wife, lover and a friend be there for all to lean on from, beginning to end.

Without the woman of the house A house is not a home when she's gone, it gives new meaning to being all alone.

So, if you have one treat her well And tell her that you care work, if you don't, some day you'll look To find, she isn't there.

~*~

Del "Abe" Jones © 2009



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