Her personality was like a star that shined so bright.
It was as infectious as a blazing wildfire
that ignited the somber moods of Monday’s past,
and was enough to make you look forward to Mondays of the future.
They anxiously waited for the next time
and patiently watched the hands on the ticking clock as they listened to its cadence.

Her voice traveled and spoke in rhythmic cadences.
In the sun, her eyes beamed ever so brightly.
And when she looked at them with those eyes, they felt sparks of fire.
They thought, ‘I’ve never felt this with girls of adolescents’ past.’
For in that moment, she made them feel like the man of their future.
But when those seconds were over, they hoped she’d look at them just one more time.

She’d speak and it’d always feel as though there was never enough time.
She reminded you of that song you loved years ago for its soothing cadence.
Her smile revealed teeth so bright.
Her charm demanded your attention like a traumatic fire.
But it was enough to douse the flames of blaze’s past
and ensure a hopeful and promising future.

They wanted to be in her future.
In their eyes, she possessed the power of slowing down time.
So much so, that it was only ever so often that they actually heard the ticking clocks cadence.
She spoke life into words that never before seemed “this warm”, or “that bright.”
Warmer than winter fires
Or summer suns in those season’s past.

“This girl is very beautiful.” But it was actually her mind they could not get past.
Brains and beauty, she was the future.
She was so unique; there wouldn’t be another like her in their time.
Her presence made their hearts thump with a sound similar to a trotting horse’s cadence.
The smallest joke made dark days instantly bright
and her giggle made their hearts feel as though it was being melted by a kind fire.

A slow, low, calm fire.
A fire she made new from failed crushes and broken hearts of their past.
A fire they feared would be made full by the imaginary rejection they foresaw in their future.
A sigh of relief was released when she whispered “hi” that next time,
Then the nerves finally went away and the horse’s trots slowed to a softer cadence.
Until the next time, and her eyes never seemed so bright.

In their eyes she was the girl who made Mondays bright.
They wanted a time machine so that they could relive moments spent with her in the past.
And visit moments with her in the future.