My little girl

She primped and preened and polished herself
I don’t know where she learnt it from
For I am not of the fussing and the faffing kind
My look is simple, plain and refined
Often told I have no style and that I’m old
The self-same daughter who utters those words
Walked through the door to my gaping mouth
I don’t know when it happened
And sometimes I wish that it would stop
But here before me stood a young lady
With little need for all the titivating
For natural is her beauty and talented her style
She knows just what to wear and how to pair
But with the sprucing and the grooming
She’s gained maturity and age in look
My heart aches from pride alongside fear
To send my little girl into the world
No longer baby, not yet woman
But always mine through every stage and step.

Debbie Gravett © 2016.11.10

via Daily Prompt: Primp


Photograph MariangelaCastro Pixabay.com

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