You desperate wounded look
what’s brought you to her face?
I can’t explain her actions,
won’t someone plead my case?

For once again I’ve hurt her,
cut her deeply, Lord knows how.
She’s brooding o’er her secret wound;
I can’t speak with her now.

Why can’t he see within my soul
and sense my simple needs,
to nourish me with attentiveness
as his own flesh he so feeds;

To ask me what’s important
and acknowledge my attempt
to make his home a castle?
On my love he pours contempt.

My children; you must understand
a woman has her way
to meet her husband’s deepest needs:
to honor and obey.

But men so need reminding
what’s important in her life,
that nine times in My Word I say,
“Husband, love your wife.”

Husband, give yourself to her
the expanse of your heart;
for how can she submit to one
she only owns in part?