she turns,
her hazel hair glowing,
with the pride,
she so greatly earned.
she twists in the air,
beautiful,
soft,
a moving form of art.
she lifts her hands,
poised and gentle,
to the Gods above,
and starts to sway,
graceful and elegant,
as a doe in a field.
she lifts her leg,
and her arm,
and stands on her pointe' toe,
and twirls,
first slow and quiet,
till the song she is dancing,
grows powerful
and she spins faster and faster
all the while
shining as bright as a star.
she stops,
bends her supple, lean body,
lowers her majestic neck,
and listens to her amazed audience.