It is no more; goodnight broken.
no more hugs,
no more sitting on her daddy’s knee.
Blushes have succumbed to blusher,
war paint that ushers in colder kisses.
Frost brushed lips.
The old man is second best,
a money chest and car keys.
Tea in bed when she is hanging
from the night before.
Mumbled words she chooses to ignore.
And he adores her still, he always will.