The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Thursday, October 2, 2008


She twirled and turned with the most magical glow,
while I anticipated few falls and for her to go slow.

However, to my amazement and even surprise,
dancing melody bedazzled and sparkled in her eyes.

Those pigtails fancied with silky ribbons in pink,
as giving her a smile with a nudge and a wink.

Her qualities were evident in a playful small crowd,
tiny brave two year old who made mother so proud.

Rehearsing weekly for her vast goals to achieve,
ballerina star to be at this young age so naive.

Stitched were the florets in her embellished dress,
silver threads embroidered on each crinoline press.

Twirling, skipping, being the star of the show,
her face was so lit in an untainted beaming glow.

My quiet tears I wiped as I watched her on stage,
as she danced free as a bird that just left its cage.

Then as a trophy was given to keep for all times,
I memorize and savoured her priceless few lines.

I smiled with joy while my heart was on fire,
my little ballerina was a show star to admire.

Although an hour has passed and is gone from sight,
she continues to soar during her journey of flight.

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