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Monday Love: This Poem

There she comes down the road

I wonder what she thinks of me

As slowly I move toward her

What will she think of me? 


Will I see a spring in her step, 

A gleeful gleam in her eyes; 

Will she sing and laugh as though

Behind her a happy life lies?


Will her body be straight and strong, 

Her face have a healthy glow; 

Will she be loving, kind and friendly, 

Can her conversation easily flow?


Will she remember the fun she’s had

Meetings, camptrips and dances? 

Will she have had a normal life 

With friends, relatives, romances?


Will she thank me for what I’ve done

In making her honest and true; 

For keeping up her spirits 

Until each task was through?


Will she always be surrounded 

With friends made in the past; 

But along with those, can she make more

That kind that will always last?


Will her ideals be on a pedestal 

High above the ordinary kind; 

Will her ambitions be headed right 

And her future correctly outlined? 


Will she be tactful, courteous, polite; 

Have the manners that she should?

Will she be serious, cheerful and active, 

Having been helpful whenever she could?


Will her talents be well developed 

From them, all flaws sifted;

Will her eyes be turned to heaven and God 

And her heart be upward lifted?


I wonder what she thinks of me, 

of how I’ve traveled life’s way. 

Will she be pleased when I see her 

What will she have to say?


There she comes down the road, 

What she’s like someday I’ll see. 

It’ll be quite long before I meet her

For you see that girl is me. 


-Estelle Anderson (Sherman), my grandmother. Painting of her by Lucy, my mom.