Corps de Ballet

You can’t tell them apart

Each a martyr to their art

Manifold sore toes

And muscular torsos

Aspiring learners

Become modest earners

Growing from duckling to swan

Yet ambition’s long gone.

Auditioned  Sylphide

But did not succeed

Also Coppelia

Ended in failure

Never staged alone

She’s always the clone

Her amazing grace

Her identical face

She dismissed the advice

That dancers die twice

She’s learnt  life is harsh

Now she teaches her class

She smiles at the petite

Their tutus so sweet

And the little ones beam

As she conjures their  dream

Steve Blakesley © June 2016