Little Girls Grow Up
G. W. Newton- 1978
Little girls grow up; their Papas don't
It's cause he can't, not cause he won't.
When first he hears her sweet ooo goo,
His growing up is through.
First step she made, hand round his finger,
T'was decided then, he'd ever linger.
Arms 'round his neck, sweet loving kiss;
Who'd ever leave this state of bliss?
The lovely trill of her sweet laughter,
Decided there he'd stay forever after.
She learned to talk; boy how she could.
With hopes and dreams, she raced thru childhood.
Birthdays passed with puppies, dolls, and toys,
schools, horses, secrets, and boys.
No captive of time, knowing few peers,
To be a doctor, or lawyer, held for her no fears.
She loved the world, the times, the places,
She helped the helpless with her sweet graces.
Each new day met, each new dream captured,
While he hung suspended, enraptured.
He watched her soar, and thru it all,
Was there to catch her when she'd fall.
He held her thru each stage she passed,
Because he loved, without being asked.
So she matured, 'tis the nature of girls,
To find other loves; to seek other worlds.
A baby, a child, a woman, a wife;
I love you Papa, but I must live My life.
He was stunned; unable to move,
Not understanding, how could he approve.
Where went that child who made life so good?
Why, it's simple; she's entered womanhood.
So life goes on; Papa grows old and gaunt;
And little girls grow up: Their Papas don't.
(For Angela and Vanessa) 1978