She felt like a princess that night,
Cinderella, dressed in airy white,
fitting in, for once, with festive fools,
in borrowed jewels that sparkled
like the sapphires of her eyes.
She thought she could have danced the evening long
In flawless shoes that seemed, at first,
to fit her slender feet,
daintily displaying tiny toes.
Unpolished, but blessed with a child-like graceshe kept up with society's circling pace,
the joy of dancing filling all her thoughts.
Now, surfeited with sambas and foxtrots,
her feet feel flat,
Stepping out for air,
she finds her shoes stuck fast
in someone's snare.
She freezes, faced with selecting her fate--
If a prince should find and save her, could she stay?
Become a princess, richly shod each day?
Though fatigued, her feet don't hesitate,
swiftly slipping out to homeward flee,
to heal her heels,
set toes and arches free...
and retrace shadows of the swirling steps
on the safe, familiar floor.