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The Ballet
DG (Southampton, UK / )

The Ballet

Poem By Daphne Grant

Round and round the dresses swirling
Arms now waving, as the scene mind
fed only begins to fulfil a dream
Tchaikovski planted there.
The Waltz of the flowers,
The music rises in happy expectation
The crescendo loudly crashes,
The dance is over.
The ballroom clears,
I am back in my living room.
The swirling dervish.

Daphne Grant
March 2006
From remembered experience of playing Tchaikovski at My London Road Flat

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Comments (1)

You must have closed your eyes for a moment, to take in the beauty of the ballet. A treasured poem indeed, love it.--Melvina--


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