In the quiet hours of dawn’s first light,
They stir, unseen, to pave our way,
With dreams set aside, they stand and fight,
For us to have a brighter day.

Their hands, weathered, tell tales untold,
Of sleepless nights and endless care,
A fortress of warmth in the cold,
Their love, a shield we always wear.

Through trials fierce and storms unkind,
They hold us close, with gentle grace,
In their embrace, a peace we find,
A haven in this vast, wild space.

Though words of thanks may fall so short,
Their sacrifice a silent song,
In heart and soul, they play their part,
A love that guides us, pure and strong.