Penelope

I weave an intricate cloth
It is a beautiful work of art
I gaze fondly at my craft
And with a smile, tear it apart

I have done this for years now
The most genius thought I've ever had
To rid myself of these men
Who have, for so long, driven me mad

It matters not where you are
Or if the weather is sun or rain
In the world, where ere you go
All unwanted suitors are a pain!