You did not come with nine months wait,
I did not buy the buttons and bows ‘til late,
You, my daughter came, mid your teen-age years,
And I loved you in spite of all my fears.
A short while mine, to dress, to spoil, to love,
Far too soon you flew, like a sweet, soft dove.
Now content to listen to all your hopes and fears,
Forever you are my girl in spite of all your years.
If I could have picked a daughter, she would have been you,
No mother could love a daughter, any more than I love you,
My Girl……………My Daughter……….
Teresa Dearing
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-girl-16/
