One day, maybe, she will see the wisdom in rewarding me
With simple words, "I'm glad you're here," as I attend to all
The household chores she lacks the strength to do:  the weeding,
Raking up the leaves, the cobweb clearing, this and that.  I
Wonder if she's ever wondered why I do these things for her.
Why would the geezer down the lane, someone who's elderly
Himself, come trudging up each afternoon to labor without
Pay for her?  Perhaps she's told herself I'm lonely, that
The hours I spend with her are compensation of themselves,
And she's not obligated to provide additional rewards.  Not
Money; there's no thought of that, but also not one indication
That she values what I do.  She may not.  It's hard to know,
And I may, at some point, decide that I'm not being paid
Enough.  I'll tend to my own household tasks, and wait
To see if she will ask me, "Won't you come back here?"