She starts gently tapping on the floor and then romps,
With one hand spread and other near to chest, she stomps;

Stage light follows her as she Palisades below,
As a shooting star which leaves behind the glow;

Her skirt appears to be a turning disc as she twirls and capers,
And when she pauses to resume, as a sugar heap it tapers;

As a pappus, she for a while rises and floats in the air,
Alights too as slowly as the same, oh what a flair!

She with her toe so elegantly executes pirouette,
Only other which will do this is a spin top and her silhouette!

The entrenchments surprise me and are enchanting,
As I count the leg crosses, eyes seem scanting

In that step, as butterfly wings, her legs flutter
I am here stupefied with no word to utter

As the prettiest angel that I can ween,
As the nearest iceberg that I have seen;

Sometimes she flies, sometimes she glides
Giving reasons for her, in my mind, to abide...