Bismillah, alhamdulillah.
A perfect wife
A life without strife
Height compatible though a bit less
Allowing me to impress
Not fat, not thin
Just trim
Beautiful without compare
A harness for my wandering stare
Faith like the Everest
Shrouded by hijabs black and thickest
A wit and education
Coupled with frequent prayers and supplication
A mother of many
A defender of my house and every penny
As for me
I am as you see
Judge me not by my height
And in weight I am not very light
Homework my bane
Washing, hoovering all a pain
Kids are bawling
Mother, mother they are calling
Content to ask for all
Aah, as for me, what I offer is very small
Prayers and supplication wanting
Manners and etiquette awaiting
Bent ribs are my despair
Bent beyond repair
To the distance I turn my gaze
Only to find a misty haze
To the face on my wall I stare
As I realise the cause of my despair.
Found this on a withered old paper. The spidery writing on the page reminded me of a poem I had written in 1994 called `Perfect Wife`, inspired by conversations of those in search of her.
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