Wonder of the dance

Hardly a breath taken as she leans closer, closer still 
Getting drawn in to her own astonishment as the tale dances in her veins 
It takes her over and she is not an observer she is there 
Audible intake of breath as the snow begins to fall inside the room fluttering down 
Her hand clapped to her mouth 
Head shaking in disbelief as the girl in the feathered tutu seems to fly across the boards 
And she is so overcome the tears sting her eyelids but don’t break free
Incase they hamper her view of the wonders ahead 
She is part of their world if even for a short time it’s a glimpse into myth and magic 
But it’s true because she’s here and a witness to every move they make
She can believe in magic in its sparkly , twinkly beauty 
Because magic shows its ugliness and glamour in equal measure and there’s always a way
A way through the dark, the fear 
She leaves after the encore filled with a knowing otherness 
She will make her own future and she is beautiful 
She can be , she is magic.



Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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