Polka Dots Poem by Vera Sidhwa

Oh, I danced with my pink, polka dot dress on,
It topsy turvied those who watched me.
They too wanted to become polka dots,
To be randomly dancing and oh so pretty.

My polka dot people now wanted,
Their own dress with polkas on it.
They cut fabric so lovely, so fragile.
All polka dots were being made all over.

The dance now stopped,
The polkas were all designed.
Mine was the very best.
Mine was very fine.