Love Does Honor

I have shirts to iron, today!
Note the lilting way
I say the words.
Each syllable’s as sweet
As any birds
Song in the wood.
It is so good
To do this for that man
Of mine!
I cannot build a shrine
To honor him,
Compose a symphony,
Or write an ode.
So I must simply
Do the little things
To show my love.
I’ll mend his glove,
I’ll stroke his hair,
And every shirt he’ll wear
Will be as smooth and white
As freshly fallen snow,
Because my hands have made it so.
There, hear my voice go
Lilting in that loving way:
Oh, I have shirts to iron, today!

FARMER’S WIFE