Ballet Shoes and Old Oak Floors
Hoops to blow translucent dreams
Silken ballet pumps to smudge and squeak old oak floors
Mildly ajar doors
Ocre dust teases oiled lamp fuse
Prima donna muse
Whilst tutus reach skywards
Or bow with the majestic elegance of
Tightly scooped hair
Lightly dusted pale pink cheeks
Words tweak the oh so harmonious
Pupils expand, dilate to the wise words of choreographer delight
Ivory keys tinker the bells
Whilst aged instructor smells the poignant scent of times
Defeat
As fresh young roses
Whose calves stand proud
Fingers extended exaggerated elegance
To perform for a whimsical audience
Binoculars entranced
Relish the ballet dance
Of time
poem by Karen Sinclair
Added by Poetry Lover
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