Prince, I warn you, under the rose,
Time is the thief you cannot banish.
These are my daughters, I suppose.
But where in the world did the children vanish?

In these lines McGinley compresses a familiar parental shock—children seeming to disappear into adulthood—into a witty, theatrical address. The speaker turns to a “Prince” (suggesting fairy-tale romance, courtship, or the next generation’s suitors) and issues an “under the rose” warning: time, not any rival, is the true thief. The pivot from “These are my daughters” to “where…did the children vanish?” captures the doubleness of motherhood: pride in who one’s children have become, and grief at the irretrievable loss of their earlier selves. The rhyme and lightness sharpen, rather than soften, the poignancy.