She oversees our home affairs
From basement floor to attic stairs;
She does the shopping, tends our ills;
Minds the budget, pays the bills;
She works along rebellion’s border ,
Creating system from disorder;
She cooks for, clothes, and picks up after
All of us. Her ringing laughter
Picks us up again, and makes
Light of most of our mistakes.
Hers the tender guiding hands;
Hers the heart that understands.
From basement stairs to attic floor,
She’s manager and staff–and more;
So where’s the man who’d be depriving
Such a wife of back-seat driving?
by Ray Romine Monday, October 2, 1950
