The Ballerina
She was the greatest ballerina I had ever seen
she commanded the stage, a real dancing Queen.
She danced so gracefully like a swaying flower
tiptoeing and pirouetting with effortless power.
The spot light shone down like the brightest sun
highlighting her gestures and missing none.
A pale glance of sadness was seen on her face
then as a tear fell she faded from grace.
In reality all had long since gone and so had she,
all that remained was the spotlight and me,
but I caught her ghost as she danced once more
and I heard again the applause and encore.
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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