THE GOOD WIFE I HAVE FOUND
She with long velvet locks, pouring like glory upon the head.
She with befreckled face like a starry setting for two tiger-green luminaries.
She with slender frame and tender voice, this is the wife I have found….
And she is a good thing.
She rises early; she seeks her Father is dark hours.
To the extent of great blessing is the faith she possesses,
Like the hot core of any planet, her family is warmed and kept by her tireless reliance on the words of the King—unwavering.
She is not afraid of multiple tasks.
She goes out of her way to help others.
Snow and sleeplessness and cold and difficulty, she cooks up and eats for dinner. And her cooking, well, that’s another poem!
All around her glean handfuls left on the corners of the ripe-harvest fields cultivated for her Jesus.
She has hands that cause things to grow.
Her children rise up, also early, and call her blessed.
They honor her as Queen and cling to her as hope.
The standard she raises is of ancient victory and will not easily topple.
The encouraging words she speaks to them are like golden apples falling from trees of silver—priceless.
Her way is firm, her arms embrace at any hour with kindness,
Her nest is safe, and her children will always know of heavenly love.
As for her husband, he raises his voice in the city gates,
He cannot help but dote on her audibly to all that know her, and some who don’t.
He can often be found complimenting her and attributing his success much to her and her compass faith.
She is his beauty, which grows most every day in his eyes.
She captures his thoughts like a net of abundance, quite often.
He cannot help as to feel that he is far more greatly blessed of men,
To have incarcerated such a fine catch.
He responds often, “It must have been the Lord.”
To her he drops to one knee in honor.
To her are these words penned, and no other.
For she is his love-poem; she is his snow-song.