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The Dancer Who Never Shook

She was the dancer who never shook
Not a wiggle, a wobble, a wink
While the other girls tripped on their own two feet
She was still as a statue in pink.
Her heels rose and rose ‘till she stood on her toes
And yet she did not move an inch
Arabesque! The teacher called, and while other girls fell
The dancer did not even flinch.
A rockette! They told her, that’s what you’ll be
Your straight legs kicking high every night
Or a prima ballerina in NYC
Where your arms will prove still in the light.
The dancer was proud- with reason to be!
She was surely the stillest of all
‘Till a wobbly girl from the back of the class
Could suddenly on her toes stand tall.
The girl was not still like the dancer we know
But she was “looser, truer, and pure.”
Now they said to our dancer “stop being so stiff!
Try and move more like her.”
The dancer was crushed- so she started to bend
For the first time she felt very small
As she shrunk and she shrunk her balance was lost
And our dancer took her first fall.
She was the dancer who never shook
Being still was all that she knew.
But now that she’d tottered and teetered and tipped
The dancer didn’t quite know what to do.




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