Standing along the river bed
underneath the old oak tree,
hazy thoughts cloud my vision.
Sometimes I feel so confused.
I am no longer a shy little girl.
Yet, I am not the woman I see.

One minute I sit before the mirror,
shining my lips and curling my hair.
I feel so beautiful and all grown up.
The next moment, I'm happily singing,
jumping rope, and being a silly clown,
tender, mirthful and glad like a child.

Lord, who am I and what will I be?
Will I be a bride and loving mother?
I don't know what I will one day be.
I will think about it on another day.
For now, I will merrily skip on home,
jump into Dad's arms and hug Mom.

©TinasHeart 9/30 /01

This poem was written for my daughter when she was 11 years old. Perhaps many of you can remember being 11. ~Love you, Sweetie. Mom~

(this poem used with permission of Tina)