I have a daughter made of silk
And gossamer and such,
Her sister is a muslin child,
As sturdy to the touch
As homespun is, as warm, as dear...

Dressing

(Romney Gay)

I can button buttons,
I can lace shoes,
And -
Sometimes I'm allowed to wear
Any dress I choose.

A Daughter Is...

A Daughter is...
A joy bringer,
A heart warmer,
A memory maker,
A Daughter is...
Love.

Little Girls

Little girls are precious gifts,
wrapped in love serene.
Their dresses tied with sashes
and futures tied with dreams.

A Daughter Like You is a Precious Gift

D oes so much to bring you joy
A dds lots of love to your world
U plifts you with her smile
G ives you memories to cherish
H as the warmest hugs to share
T ouches your heart with her sweetness
E njoys doing thoughtful things
R adiates her own special beauty
and is loved and Treasured more with every year.

Sugar and Spice

Sugar and spice
and everything nice
that's what little girls are made of

Sunshine and rainbows
and ribbons for hair bows
that's what little girls are made of

Tea parties, laces
and baby doll faces
that's what little girls are made of

I'm a Little TNT!

I'm a little TNT
I'm as cute as I can be
I can sing and I can dance
I wear ruffles on my
(oops, boys, take another guess)
I wear ruffles on my dress

I learned this poem when I was a little girl. I told my daughter that if she ever goes on another cruise and leaves my three granddaughters with me for eight days I will teach them this poem ;-)

On Being the Mother of a Little Girl

A careful woman I ought to be
a little lady follows me.
I do not dare to go astray
for fear she'll go the self same way.
Not once can I escape her eyes:
Whate'er she sees me do she tries.
Like me she says she's going to be,
that little lady who follows me.
I must remember as I go
through summer sun and winter snow.
I'm molding for years to be
that little lady who follows me.

There Was a Little Girl

(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

There was a little girl
who had a little curl
Right in the middle
of her forehead,
When she was good,
she was very, very good,
But when she was bad
she was horrid.

She's a bundle of sweetness
and brightness and fun
The beauty of springtime,
the warmth of the sun.

She's Innocence covered with
mud, sand and soot
She's Motherhood dragging
a doll by the foot.

She's a composite picture
of giggles and tears
Of tantrums, excitement,
amusement and fears.

A bundle of mischief
and often a tease
A creature of moods
not too easy to please.

She can capture your heart
with her pixie-like grin
Or chatter and beg till
your patience wears thin.

But obedient, naughty,
mischievous or coy
She's Mom's little Darling
and Dad's pride and joy.

What is a Daughter?

A daughter is love in a bright pink bow
A bundle of happiness all aglow
A tomboy in jeans with a tear streaked face
Crying because she has just lost a race.

Then all of a sudden, no longer small,
She's a vision of loveliness dressed for a ball
A dreamer, a schemer, no two days the same
What is a daughter...It's more than a name

She's a pleasure, a treasure, a comfort each day
Loving and sweet in her own special way
She's a sense of contentment felt deep inside
Bringing a lifetime of pleasure and pride!

Grime Time

Of mud you've got a faceful,
Your clothing is disgraceful,
And from your shoes and
socks and sleeves
Sand spills out by the caseful.
You're home from playground's
slaughter,
In need of soap and water.
"Boys will be boys" the
saying goes,
And boys, I guess, had
"oughter."
But honey, you're my
daughter!

Vanilla Please

(Patricia White)

I really do like ice cream -
All kinds, like peach and cherry,
Tutti-frutti, caramel,
Chocolate and strawberry.

But Mommy says on special days
When I'm dressed up in frills
That I must choose vanilla -
Just in case of spills.

The Tea Party

I had a little tea party
this afternoon at three.
'Twas very small,
three guests in all,
Just I, myself and me.

Myself ate up the sandwiches,
While I drank up the tea.
'Twas also I who ate the pie,
And passed the cake to me.

A Little Girl's Heart

(Reginald Holmes)

A little girl's heart must be wide and deep,
To hold all the things that she likes to keep;
A curly-haired doll that holds out its hands
And walks and talks when occasion demands.

A bright colored bow, her favorite book,
A little toy stove that really will cook;
A gay, cheery song, to sing when she's glad,
A corner to hide in, (when she's been bad).

There is plenty of room for the girl next door
And the blue silk dress in the downtown store;
A soft fluffy kitten with playful charms
And a welcome spot in her mother's arms.

A Mirror for My Daughter

(Enid Levinger Powell)

When you were born I said, "A girl
Like me." But your eyes and hair
And skin took all their shades
From your aunt and father; Your narrow
Wrists and throat - your great-grandmother's.
I searched for years to find myself
In you - some quirk of mind, some
Gesture - none.
Finally I gave up and looked
Straight at you to discover
Who this person is who isn't
Me. And you looked back alight with love
And hope identical to my own.

I know a little angel,
in 'my' house she resides;
Disguised as my little girl,
her real identity she hides.

She touches every heart,
one smile is all it'll take;
To lighten your stressful load,
of those days when you'd
thought you'd break.

One glance at her smile,
you won't want to look away;
So peaceful and captivating,
you'll want to keep it for forever and a day.

So for those who don't believe,
in angels from far away places;
Look a little closer to home,
they maybe disguised under
very familiar faces.

It's three am, they're all asleep,
and no one's here to see,
As we rock slowly back and forth,
My baby girl and me.

Her little hand is feather light
Tucked up against my chin.
I hold her tiny hand in mine,
and stroke her baby skin.

The house about us creaks and groans,
The clock hands creep around.
She snuggles closer to me still,
And makes her baby sounds.

I love these quiet hours so much,
And cherish every one.
Store memories up inside my heart
For lonely nights to come.

All too soon she'll be grown up,
Her need for mama gone.
But until then I still have time
For kisses and for song.

Time for quiet hours like this
With her cuddled in my arms,
Where I wish she'd always stay
Protected, safe and warm.

And yet I know the day will come,
She'll let go of my hand.
And go out in the wondrous world,
I'll smile and understand.

But until then she's mine to love
With no one here to see.
As we rock slowly back and forth,
My baby girl and me.

My Treasures

(Jaye Lewis)

"Where is my treasure?"
I ask in despair.
"Where is that peace,
That life without care?"

"Why, this adversity?
Such turmoil and strife!
Can I take it all
For the rest of my life?"

Then, weary and spent,
I'm still shaking my head,
As I tuck my three daughters
Into each little bed.

They're asleep, I'm exhausted,
Though their prayers brought a smile.
In the silence I'll talk
To my 'Father' awhile.

"Where is my treasure?"
I ask Him in tears.
"How do I measure
The lengthening years?"

"I'm not getting younger;
I'm tired; worn out!
There are others who HAVE!
Why must I live without?!"

In the silence I'm waiting,
Though I also feel shame;
Discouraged, I look
For another to blame.

In the silence and darkness
Comes an answer I've sought...
"My daughter, your treasure
Can NEVER be bought!"

"Then I must wait for Heaven,
For the treasure I seek?"
I ask Him, quite harshly;
Yet, feeling quite meek.

"If you look close beside you,
You'll discover your treasure!
Tell me, my daughter,
Just how DO you measure?"

"Would you trade what you have
For the gold of another?
Your husband; your children,
Your father; your mother?!"

"Your friends, have you any?
Are they faithful and true?
I ask you, my child,
Would you cast them from you?"

"And, now, as you kneel,
And pray by these beds;
As you gaze with such love,
On these sweet, trusting heads;"

"Tell me, now, where's your treasure?"
And, I looked at each one;
But, instead, I saw treasures,
That shone like the sun.

First, an emerald, my oldest;
Responsible, charming,
With a beauty so deep,
It can be quite disarming.

Then, next, is my ruby,
My youngest of all.
Such mischief and wisdom,
In one, who's so small.

And, last, but not least,
Comes the one in the middle;
Now, here is the one
Who's truly a riddle -

Brilliant and silly;
Wacky and wise.
Always the source
Of another surprise.

A spirit so strong,
In this frail, little girl.
Why, she is no other
Than my shining pearl!

So, here are my treasures.
They've been here, all the time.
Neither bought; nor are sold,
Gifts of God, they are mine.

So, whenever in doubt,
Look around, in your world.
You, too, may discover
An Emerald, Ruby, and Pearl!