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Warrior Matron
by Dorathea Maynard
Go off, my love,
Accomplish thy tasks.
Come home to me,
Day's end at last.
My work unseen,
You'll wonder what I've done.
But if not for me,
You wouldn't call this "home."
I work all day,
So you'll be fed,
The house clean,
And made, thy bed.
My tasks unending,
Yet rarely known.
My work is mending,
What all needs sewn.
I work for you,
My love, my champion.
Striving all day,
Against a battalion.
You fight in the field,
Where money wars wage.
The mouse, my enemy;
The dust, my plague.
You are my warrior,
And I thy matron.
This home is ours,
Our love unshaken.
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