The ribbon in her hair
Made of silk, so precious
The rosiest of pinks
The color unfading, bright
Her beautiful brunette locks
Intertwine with the ribbon
Wrapping around each other
When she skips, twirls
Or when the wind blows
The ribbon in her hair
Tied tightly into a bow
By her mother, loving mother
Tied with all the joys
And peace of the world
With hope that her child
Keeps the ribbon
In her hair and if not
By her side.
But the mother, loving mother
Knows the ribbon cannot
Will not remain tied or
By her child’s side forever.
The ribbon loosens over time
People touch and tug and pull
Boys soon men want to steal it
Girls twirl it around their fingers
The bow cannot be tied
The same way year after year
Because the ribbon wears
Down, the material gets old
The child grows, her hair grows
She will see more and more
Of the world presented to her
Things will change and the
Mother cannot bear to see
Her child lose the ribbon.
Too sudden and quick
The dreaded day will come
And as disheartening as this is
The mother, loving mother
Has to learn to accept
She may not embrace
The change right away
But she will love the child
Her beloved daughter
And in the mother’s eyes
Even though the ribbon
May no longer be in her hair
It will be rolled up safely
And sound in the child’s heart
A ribbon that never loosens
Is never stolen, never taken
By someone else. Something
That can never fade away
Or disappear.