The Final bow

The love of a hand-me-down dream.

Photo by Erica Viana on Unsplash

Ribbons and bows dangle from the dancing shoes,

Hung above the empty Juliette skirt that used to adorn the most beautiful swan,

A dream from long ago since forgotten,

Hiding in the silhouetting outlines of the darkened dance room once filled with memories for the ages,

The familiar echo of the Sugar Plum Fairy’s tiny pitter-patters approaching the now hollow stage,

A tiny dancer gazing up at the shoes to fill,

The spark of hope, the glint of a dream in the eye of the beholder,

The needle falls on the record, and plays the familiar tune,

Pirouetting through the shadows,

The melody of a guardian angel guiding the steps of the dreamer,

Yesterday filling the footsteps that will raise the bar tomorrow,