I was once a 'budding' ballerina,
With all the right outfits to wear,
There never was anyone keener,
I had point shoes and tutus to spare.
Her feet float above the stage
as if carried by some unseen force.
From my view among the generally admitted
I can hardly make out the details of her face.
A beautiful ballerina full of grace
Tip toed on stage, in white lace.
Hair pulled back, a small crown in hair,
Oh, she looked so winsome and fair.
i won't second-guess
why rose-leaves die of grieving:
Lift me down again
that always feels new;
Twirl me down again
to cure my dizziness.
When I look back I find no cause to cry,
For parts not won, chances to dance passed by.
Ambitions unfufilled, the boards not trod,
Castles in the Air - not built - no nearer God!
You are so beautiful my ballerina girl
Dancing sweetly since age four
Tiptoe, twirl, swirl
Always dancing in and out the door