My Valentine

Some one called her sweetheart

On the day she learned to walk

And she toddled on the carpet

With her impish baby talk;

When with chubby hands she told them,

As imperious as a queen,

That she ruled two funny people

Whom the distance lay between.

Some one called her sweetheart

When she learned her A. B. C.'s

And spoke her lessons in the class,

Demurely as you please;

When pig-tails dangled down her back

And she could take the prize

For captivating all the school

With wide and starry eyes.

Some one called her sweetheart

On the day she turned sixteen

And all the lads in town, save one,

Had eyes of envy gree;

When quite distractingly she knew

The way a curl could flaunt

The beauty of a winsome lass.

A striking debutante.

Some one called her sweetheart

On a night beneath the moon

When two of them had set the day,

ah, tenderly -- and soon;

When through the magic months

They lived with little else to do

Than rhapsodize about their love

And meet and part -- and woo.

Some one called her sweetheart

In a supreme fit of joy

When he asked how she was faring

And they said it was "a boy."

When through years of trial and error

They learned how to rear a child

When the joys outweighed the sorrows

And parental cares beguiled.

Some one called her sweetheart

On a golden wedding day

When her withered hands adjusted

Locks of hair turned now to grey;

When he bent to her and whispered,

"Dear, it's been a pleasant life,

Going down the road together,

Boy and girl -- and man and wife!"

Louis W. Larsen