much a lady as she looks at me
Over her cup and sips her tea.
To look at her one would never know
The hurt she’s borne; it doesn’t show.

I imagine it was not always this way.
A young child to care for, while working all day.
So many women bear this load.
Their pain and anguish remain untold.

But who will do it, if they do not.
Sadly, it is the fate of our lot.
Women often take up the slack,
Not knowing if their men are coming back.

They find out how to mend and sew
To clothe their children as they grow.
They use leftovers to stretch their dimes.
The meal tastes good, so no one whines.

They give their love so their children know
They are safe and warm when times are low.
But who replenishes the mother’s heart,
When one more thing could tear it apart?

A friend is the answer; a friend with tea.
A listening ear, hospitality.
We remember our strength and our dignity,
When a friend comes to share talk and tea.

©2011 Joanna DeRungs