The Grand Ballet

A Poem By The Brit // 8/16/2011

The stage is hushed and dark:
The music, soft and low.
The seats are filled wtih whispers,
It all seem dull and slow.

Then the curtains open,
And all the stage is bright.
The music's getting louder.
And a dancer comes in sight.

She's silent to any listeners
But speaks with step and face.
A twirling here, and leaping there,
An arabesque shows her grace.

More dancers come to tell the tale.
The music sets the mood.
Their pointed feet and slender arms,
Their legs in attitude.

The shades of light turn pale and dark,
The costumes flash and glare.
They all dance in and all dance out,
Until there's one left there.

She takes the final dance and bows,
And the curtains close the way
To the world of dancers, pointes and tales;
The world of the Grand Ballet.


This is fantastic! I actually

This is fantastic! I actually felt like I was in a theatre, about to watch a Grand Ballet. I saw that nobody had commented, so here is mine!

P.S. Actually, how I found this is was that I wanted to show my mum your poem Ode to the Coffee Pot. I love that poem and so did she; and then while I was in your profile I just clicked on this! I love your style, silliness and perfect rhythm. :D

Maddi | Mon, 10/22/2012

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh


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