When I was fourteen, long ago
My legs were really skinny, so
Two good friends of mine and I
Thought we’d give ballet a try.
To build up muscle was my goal
Because I was a tall beanpole.
I got the shoes and leotard
And honestly, worked very hard
First position, turned out toes,
On to fifth position woes:
Legs are bent unnaturally,
I looked just like a falling tree.
But I tried hard, I really did
As teacher thought how to get rid
Of me before recital time—
Me on stage would be a crime.
I’d like to say in my defense
One thing I had was rhythm sense
To make up for my lack of grace
And keep the “teach” from losing face.
What I needed was a part
That I could dance with all my heart;
She came through like a champ because
Her theme would be, The Wizard of OZ.
No question which part meant for me;
My loose limbs came in handily;
I wouldn’t say I stole the show,
But I was meant to be scarecrow!
|
| Writing Prompt |
Write a POEM in any form and of any length about DANCING? any style, any country. Are you doing it yourself, alone or partnered, or watching it at a performance? |
Author Notes
not my finest hour and the end of ballet for me.
(legs didn't get any bigger, either)
|
|
