Many years ago I met a lovely girl. 
She was fun to talk with about most anything
We walked through woods 
and climbed some hills together, 
She made lunch for picnics that we shared.

We walked on beaches, felt the crunch 
of wet sand underfoot,  
listened to seagulls and ocean waves, 
and felt the caress of sea breezes.
We gathered shells with no place to keep them.

We were caught in sudden showers 
that wet us to the bone. 
She took it all in good humor 
and waited to dry off when she got home. 

We shared daydreams of someday camping 
in state forests, so cool and familiar, 
even in the distant wilds of Canada..
 
I was too timid to hold her hand,  
but was thrilled when our hands met “by accident.”   

We shared our joy in music and theaters, 
going to free concerts on the esplanade, 
or listening to great orchestras and seeing plays 
from the second balcony.

We explored old streets to find their secret places.
We went to cheap restaurants; 
they were all I could afford. 
She wasn’t choosy as long as we were together. 
We imagined we would always be as one.
I cherish the memories of those lovely days with her.

We’ve kept in touch for all these years.
Both of us married, had children.

My old sweetheart comes into the room.
Our children and grandchildren
have come to the anniversary 
of our wedding many years ago.

           August, 2014

This was suggested by a 
poem “An Old Sweetheart of Mine.”  
Author: James Whitcomb Riley, 1875.
“The ordered intermingling of the real and the dream
The mill above the river, and the mist above the stream;  …