Someday I will learn
   I will stand stately,
      proud,
         noble, dear,
            as you expect.
And reluctantly
   relinquish
      the unpredictable,
uncontrollable child
   you have known.
That look of dark despair,
   of fear,
suspicion,
   of "oh...what now?"
      that you glaze me with
      in darker hours.
Fierce frown,
   flashing eyes,
brows so tightly knit,
   they bristle
      to discourage
         girlish prattle,
that prattle is the last shout
   of those baby days
      you long to know.
Sometimes mere girlish glee,
   harmless,
      yet unwanted.
Someday it will fade
   slowly, unnoticed.
Till it is gone,
   and I will have become
      the woman,
         and not the girl.
The girl will banish
   if you wish it so.
Will you be proud?
   I don't believe you will.
Too late, my love,
   too late,
      and we shall share
         Regret.