FARM WIFE
Hers is the clean apron, good for fire
Or lamp to embroider, as we talk slowly
In the long kitchen, while the white dough
Turns to pastry in the great oven,
Sweetly and surely as hay making
In a June meadow; hers are the hands,
Humble with milking, but still now
In her wide lap as though they heard
A quiet music, hers being the voice
That coaxes time back to the shadows
In the room’s corners. O, hers is all
this strong body, the safe island
Where men may come, sons and lovers,
Daring the cold seas of her eyes.
-R.S. Thomas
Gladsome Lights 
This poem by R.S. Thomas understands a supreme role designed by God for women (gender-intended) for the good of all mankind. Perhaps I read more of my thoughts into it, but then poetry allow that liberty. A woman content, active in her role in the home, yet strong, courageous and influential in what is going on in the world.
Thank you for educating me in poetry! I may do a post on this in the future, linking back to you, of course, if that is okay with you?
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This makes me think of my mother, hard working and so caring; she was the ‘safe island’ for all of us!
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What a lovely poem! It strengthens as it grows to the end.
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I love this poem and the story it tells. I am particularly fond of any literature about a woman in her kitchen. It’s a subject I’m particularly drawn to this winter.
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