Little girls grow up.

I am getting married now..
and somebody wrote this poem for me.
It made me cry.. Thanks Jim!

Jeune Fille
Poem by James Rist

When did she trade tousle head for layered tresses?
When did long fragrant baths begin?
When did sandals and frocks incline to heels and dresses?
When did the girl and the beauty first meet?

All those endless summers of play;
Running and romping--wild like the boys;
Free of care for ruby lips and broken heart….

Loving most her cuddly toys,
And thinking herself too plain to matter,
She disdained signs of the woman’s start.

Still--slowly--the mirror cast its spell,
And revealed enchanting changes--
From gangling fawn to comely gazelle.

Now girl meets woman, as Nature arranges
The young man’s desire for aught than his own
Flurries of passion and lust and slapdash tribute,
For verse and roses and moments with her alone.

But Father tries, dissuade the reckless stranger
Who seeks to capture his treasure,
And Mother counsels the waning girl-child
To practice restraint in some measure.

Then, both release with love the blossom of their seed,
Trading peace for anxious portents of danger.

With banns now sealed and dowry meted,
Treasured youth binds nature’s need.

Still…parents’ love, yet undefeated,
Clings to girl, seen young and free.

Ah! …Pas la mariée --pour tojours, jeune fille!

The last line simply translated means, "...not a wife, but always our little girl!