I sit watching them grow
From young and weak
Twitching and twisting
To mature and stronger
Dancing with grace and beauty
Eventually they grow old and start to dwindle
Their dancing slows
Yet still bright with encouragement for every new generation
That joins in the dance
All in clothing all colorful and bright
Blues, yellows, reds, swirling together
The dancers in world of their own

I watch every generation
From this side of the glass
As each new branch is added throughout the evening
Creating a warm glow
Making me cozy
Even though the biting cold outside flows under the
Door 

Gradually the night ends
Bring the dance to a halt
When they leave their beautiful, colorful outfits
Putting on grey and white nightgowns
Falling asleep into a deep slumber
Not to rise until they are woke
By a new branch starting the dance again