A/N: Jeté is pronounced zhuh-tay, I think. I don’t speak French, though, so anyone who speaks French is free to correct me, lol!

Yearning to be Graceful

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My jaw dropped open as I watched

Meg’s feet, dancing in the rosin box:

Dip, tap, arch and then fall;

It made me jealous to my heart’s very core!

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Delicate, light, graceful, freeeeeeee

All the things my feet yearned to be

Meg’s feet were any dancer’s pride

Oh, they were a truly exquisite sight.

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The dance mistress called; her golden head spun

So dainty, that action! It couldn’t be done!

She twiiiiirled and ran off, her ankle bells jingling

I stood where I was, furiously thinking –

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From whence came the elegance Meg radiated?

I looked at my own feet, feeling deflated.

In vain did I try to fathom Meg’s secret

Each minute I tried just made me more desperate…

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She pirouetted, smiling, perfectly poised

If I could have done that, I would have rejoiced!

But she simply looked confidently composed

I felt like a garden weed next to a rose.

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“En avant! Jeté! Oh, very good!”

Hearing that said to Meg didn’t boost my mood.

I longed to be able to dance like she could

To float like a fairy in an enchanted wood...

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To be able to glide across polished floors

In the arms of a prince, in his grandly-lit halls;

To be able to soar over smooth wooden stages

To deafening applause from dukes and their pages!

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To be able to drift as though lulled by the flow

Of a gentle river in the sun’s setting glow…

These were my dreams when I joined ballet class

But how long will it take before they come true at last?