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No money for the ballet?
Sit outside on a breezy day,
Watch the movements of the trees,
All with their own personalities.
Erect and tall is the lead,
Two arms outstretched but curved to plead,
Pirouettes from a beauty bowing toward his chest,
She looks my way, I like that part best.
The ghoul in the mountain bent and gnarly,
Knots in his old body, eyes all surly,
Adding to the acting mystery,
Of the ballet dancing out history.
Juniper kneels down on the ground, saplings thin or poor,
You may see elves and animals move on the forest floor.
Violins play in the sound of the winds,
No tickets, you say, audience your friends.
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