With the furrowing of my intelligent brow
With my glistening muscle and brawn
And my rhythmic thrusts in shrouds of mist
Father, see me build a home for the young

With my smile and my agony alternating
And formidable forces galore frustrating
The creativity of my persistent yearnings
Father, see me build a place called home

With pangs of regret and sorrow banished
In moments of temporary accommodation
And with joy unlimited in the ascendancy
Father, see me build from a fusion of desires

Spurred on by the mellow essence of femininity
Wrapped like a surprise in garments of pleasantry
Blown gently to float like soap bubbles in the air
Father, thus see me grip an opportunity come