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.