A girl once

She was a girl once
The most adorable crying baby with the upturned nose
Who would go to everyone but when it’s feeding time she had better be in her mothers arms
She was not demanding but why she seldom smiled nobody knows

She was a girl once
With dark curly hair that was her most outstanding feature then
Her trademark pigtails was second to her trademark doll which would not leave her arms
A straight up no-nonsense-taker, quiet but an effective leader

She was a girl once
Growing faster than the beanstalk in Jack’s fairytale
Her swelling chests accompanied with new emotions and sudden attention from boys
She knew it was normal and inevitable because she had read and watched but dealing with it in real life was a different tale

She was a girl once
It would come as a big surprise but she too had crushes
But her circumspection was extreme that she made it go away faster than it came
Her feminine ideals now burgeoning she didn’t want to be in bed with the enemy so any advances she crushed it

She was a girl once
No one but herself knew she had growing up to do for her facade of maturity was just a smart combination of looking good and talking less
She was intuitive enough to know that she had a calling for which to answer
Her preparation was almost done but her beauty and brains made it easier for her no less

Yes, she was a girl once
But that girl was now an inner voice to coach, guide and remind her of lessons learnt
Made her a skeptic of previously held beliefs for which she audited to know the truth
Like being feminist and still understanding the place of womanly values and place in the kitchen
For a good balance would put her in a place above the ordinary and before God

She was a woman now
Her priorities laid straight and focus spot on  like her spine which her keeps her standing tall
Discipline and Determination, two pillars upon which her personality stands like her thighs which keeps her moving on
Her service to man sacred like her bosom to her future husband, never compromising for she knew unto God she would account for
Her compassion bountiful like her breasts, ready to feed even more than her kids like she is ready to give
Her hair on her head as natural as the sun and stars and a true reflection of her identity and creativity
Sitting on a neck as graceful as a Queen’s that no amount of glittering pearls could outshine
She is a woman now

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