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barbara-swanPoems
Ribbons and bows and tickle toes That’s what a young daughter means A ride on a swing, a flower she brings A daisy, a clover, a rose And the years how they fly And we ask ourselves why This daughter is so un-aligned She’s happy, she’s sad She’s good and she’s bad At times we think she’s lost her mind Then the teen years appear Its’ loud music we hear, a shout, “Did anyone call?” Lets go to the movies, do something groovy Have a party or go to the mall So ah, now she’s grown Her time is her own She’s left in the physical way But she’s not really gone Cause’ when she comes home We hear: “Gotta do laundry, ok?”
0
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
A Daughter
Ribbons and bows and tickle toes That’s what a young daughter means A ride on a swing, a flower she brings A daisy, a clover, a rose And the years how they fly And we ask ourselves why This daughter is so un-aligned She’s happy, she’s sad She’s good and she’s bad At times we think she’s lost her mind Then the teen years appear Its’ loud music we hear, a shout, “Did anyone call?” Lets go to the movies, do something groovy Have a party or go to the mall So ah, now she’s grown Her time is her own She’s left in the physical way But she’s not really gone Cause’ when she comes home We hear: “Gotta do laundry, ok?”
Written by
barbara-swan
American
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
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