She danced softly,
Her feet gracing the earth,
Her toes caressing the surface,
Her arms in wide circles,
Flattering the air around her.
My ballerina danced.

She moved in time,
To her own music,
Silently dancing,
Like a whisper,
A breathe of innocence.
She would pass.

But the fire gleamed,
She danced towards it,
Rhythmic with the flames,
The gold swayed around her,
The embers laughed.
Pulling her in.

I heard no scream,
No muffle of a call,
Her glittering costume,
Consumed by the flames,
No longer to dance,
Her path had been paved.

Her dancing music,
In time to the night,
Like a bird,
She now takes flight.

By Siobhan
Date: 3/April/2004