The Ballet


A twirling, swirling, whirling place
Of lace and lights and laughs.
A stage of feet, a crowd of hands,
The music beats the dancers’ calves.

A man, a boy, a little girl,
A lady, and a star;
Speakers up on stage who speak
With their hands and feet and hearts.

The dancers’ flitting, flashing feet;
The toes with ribbons tied
Like smiles, frowns, forget this life
And dance on through the endless night.

The speakers dance the words in steps,
They dance in line and rhyme and time;
But if you ask what dancers dream,
They don’t, they can’t remember why.

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