She waited for him patiently
In the tranquil summer time
Sat in the meadow watching for him
Letting the bright sun shine

She watched for the long meadow grass
To rustle with his step
She waited to hear his voice
Calling hers with depth

She waited for him calmly
In the fresh and windy Fall
Walked down the lane watching the trees
Uttering his presence to call

She watched for his automobile
To swish her skirt in the road
She waited for when he’d call her
To give her the ring he bestowed

She waited for him anxiously
In the snow-white winter days
She looked out the parlor window
Wondering when he’d find her gaze

She watched for the door to open
When he’d step in from the bitter, dry cold
She watched for the red hand-knit scarf
She’d sent him thru the Army he’d enrolled

She waited for him frightened
In the fateful, secretive spring
She did not watch for him anymore
Afraid of what waiting might bring

They finally came to her door
She fainted at the news- very plain
He’d been shot and died clutching a scarf
And screaming and crying her name
 
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