The Strong And The Frail

She was frail when we first met She reminded me of a new born kitten, I was proud and strong and never did sweat Then when I met her, I was quickly smitten. I opened the door and I carried her stuff Whenever her and I were together, Then I carried her over the threshold without a puff She was as light as a dove's feather. I was the muscle and of course she was the looks And I was always her proud protector, I read the paper and she read the books She was our family director. Killing the beasties was always left up to me Also mowing the grass and cleaning the gutters, She cooked and cleaned and made our home happy And she picked the color for our walls and shutters. Now time has come and time has gone Life and living upon us did slowly assail, As our bodies and positions slowly moved on Now she is the strong, and I am the frail. Randy L. McClave