Dreaming in Soft Pirouettes
Twirling in a
puddle,
Tiny feet
treading the depths
Of a child’s
imagination,
Splashing to
music she alone hears,
Lying in bed
At night
She dreams in
Soft
pirouettes,
Too young to
know
What a dancer
is,
She just is
A child who
moves
On butterfly
wings,
She'll one day
bring
Fans to their
feet
With
pirouettes and leaps
That make them
weep
From the
unexpected gift
Of her
dancing.
