There are no crown jewels, to adorn her breast,
Yet a heart of gold lies deep in her chest.
No fancy needlework is there to display,
But your problems, she'd mend in her own wise way.
No Butler or Maids were at her command.
But she knew what's right; on that she would stand.
Her kitchen was common and ever so small,
Yet her table was bountiful, yes plenty for all.
Riches never found her, there is no wealth to divide.
Her life was unshackled by vanity and pride.
So, when I miss her, and I feel so alone.
I Seek Jesus, my Savior, she is there at His Throne!