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Poem for Sherry

The summers of my childhood,

Were awesomely good,

I stayed at my grand’s house

Down here in the south.



The little girl across the street,

Was my playmate and witness to my feats.

She wasn’t what you would call pretty,

Scrawny as a rail with daring a plenty.



We would take grandpa Johnson’s red wagon

And pull it all over town,

Collecting pop bottles to sell.

The guys at the corner gas station

Knew us well.



We would take our money

Buy popsicles or ice cream,

And share our germs

Eating them.



As we grew older we would venture far,

Walking to Dream Lake for we were to young

For a car.

Got caught in a summer storm,

Crawled through a window of an empty house

Was out of our norm.



The house was old and we made up stories to tell,

Of ghosts and goblins that we knew well.

The storm abated and we left the sheltering timber,

That forever would be an adventure to remember.



The years passed and she was married

Had a little boy and little girl,

In my heart, she I still carried,

Always a reminder of that happiest world.



No, the ugly duckling never became a swan, as it was told,

But her beauty to me was deeper and more priceless than gold.

She was my first love and forever will be

As close as a sister can be to me.



I love you, Sherry,

That is all there is to say

I loved you then,

I love you today,

Not as I love my wife,

But as the sister I never had,

You are a blessing that makes me glad.



I write this poem to you

It is a sight for sore eyes

For it is so true,

You need to say “I love you”

Before they die.





Sherry,



I was thinking of you on the way to work and somehow I had to express how I felt about you. If I had had a sister, I would have hoped she was just like you…spunky and feisty and as daring as they come. Our time as children was one of the happiest times in my life and when I stopped by that day before I wed, it was to make sure that I was doing the right thing. I had to see you as if to get your blessing. I thank you for all the memories, for the kisses in the trees, for sharing the popsicles and fudgecicles, for the long walks to your grandpa’s house, and eating mulberries and guavas on Grandaddy’s garage. They are memories of a carefree time that I will treasure forever.



I love you 'Sis', there I said it.



Dean you have a good woman there and may God bless and keep you both.