Stranger at My Window
By: Michael Vanderhoof
When I was just a child about the age of ten,
A stranger came to see me, but not a day since then.
Her hair was gold like sunshine, that glistened in the moon,
A most intriguing visit, as I lay here in my room.
I wasn’t really frightened for her smile it seemed so true,
So, I opened up the window, it seemed the thing to do.
Her voice was very pleasant, as she asked if I could play,
I asked about tomorrow, around the middle of the day.
Her face then turned to sorrow as she turned and walked away,
I begged her for a moment, and told her she should stay.
Then I crept out through the window, and she began to smile.
I told her I could play with her, but for just a little while.
I walked with her up to the school, and we both began to swing.
We played and laughed, enjoyed our time, until the clock would ring.
The tower of Old St. Vincent’s, it told how late the hour,
Then she turned and looked at me, as if under some strange power.
I followed her into the woods, she stopped and turned around.
I thought this most peculiar, until I saw something on the ground.
A tombstone here among the woods, with no others here in sight.
And then she quickly faded here, in the middle of the night.
Now twenty years have come and gone, as I wait by this window glass.
Hoping very anxiously, for just a glimmer of the past.
Her friendship I so truly miss, the time with her divine.
My heart did break upon this night, my forever valentine.