An unsung hero waits at home;

While we who serve the world do roam.

 

Who holds the fort while we're away;

Who takes command and leads the way.

 

One whose life is full of "byes";

Who takes her lumps and seldom cries

 

Who does her work with little praise;

Who brightens nights and soften days.

 

A lover, a mother, a friend and a nurse;

Who puts herself second to make others first

 

A source of care who's always there,

No matter what, who, when or where.

 

She's loved the most when we're alone;

By ourselves and far from home.

 

When most we feel the void she fills;

And know the lonely heart she thrills.

 

Her smile, her words, her loving glance;

They touch the soul and life enhance.

 

To her our highest praise we give;

Our love, ourselves, the life we live.

 

Yet how we feel, oft left unsaid;

Is heard with heart and not with head.

 

So here's to her, the loving wife;

Who gives herself and shares our life.

 

Copyright, RFHay, 1982