I pirhouette on my coiled spring Looking after pretty things My face a beautiful, painted smile Dancing, smiling for my happy child No need to rush, no destination Not held back by any reservations I smile, dance and sing a little tune Hands in the air as if touching the moon She smiles when she hears me sing For I look after her beloved rings I merrilly dance in a pretty pink frock I am the ballerina in a child's jewellery box
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
Thought I'd try to write something different and happy.
Comments (1)