The father looked upon his daughter, now grown,
her frame, bony, Grimm, a fairy tale in motion, thin collar bones;
fingers pseudo-Grethel, sticks, knotty twigs, meant to fool the wicked
witch.
He dared to touch her hair, so long, curls and tangles,
flowing down her back, a clip to have, but can never hold it all;
like Rapunzel, letting down her locks, final rescue was a long time coming.
Regarding her face, so tender, her manner quiet and gentle,
yet Snow-White shares trait with Rose-Red, was seeking too, has found;
he mourns now, the loss of his daughter, belonging now to the bear prince.
reformatted and slightly edited (didn't quite "fit" the page when posted long ago before i had den controls). ... of course in order to read it now, you need a magnifying glass!
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~Jackie~
Anyhow - its a lovely poem..
Melanie