A little girl clops in mommy's heels,
her dress, a floppy hat.
The borrowed pearls she's chosen
dangle halfway down her back.
Her face a shining rainbow,
ruby lips, cheeks tinted pink,
blue splashes on both eyelids,
powder snowflakes in the sink.
She'll go twirling in a ballroom,
a princess with her knight.
Or better still, be mommy
out with daddy Friday night.
In a child's imagination
everything is crystal clear,
yet the truth beneath the surface
is revealed in mommy's mirror.
That little girl is all grown up,
clothes and shoes are now my size...
but the mirror of maturation
is in my daughters' eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Just love this one.I can see my grand daughter growing up and imagine what she will be like when she arrives at womanhood.Time enough for this uncertain world of 'Grownups'. Sid John.