quick post

This is a little poem I wrote for my dance team students last year, I am going to give it to this year's team again so I have it all on my computer and posting it is just a quick copy and paste. It's an obvious play on a classic.



The Dancer’s Eve
By Calvin Barnum II



‘Twas the night before Christmas,
and on the dance floor,
No one was stirring,
not few, not more

The doors were all locked, for safety’s sake
An empty room through Christmas break
The sound system unplugged, shoes in their place
A thin layer of dust in the wide open space

The instructors went home, the dancers were gone
The air seeming strange, stale without song
When outside in the lot, there arose a new sound
But the night air was still, no soul to be found

A faint metallic whisper, started to tingle
There in the sky, first jangle than jingle
In the glow of a street lamp, perhaps a slight shimmer
A gust and a flurry of snow all a glimmer

Where once there was naught, now stood a sleigh
The driver descending without a delay
As he walked past his steeds, a hand on their back
Carrying only a parcel, abandoning the sack

Hush Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen
For the dancer’s we stop dear Prancer, and Vixen
With a wink and a smile in the studio he stood,
Unwrapping a small treasure of silver and wood

From his left pocket he drew, a small key of gold
A twist, a crank, and a lid to unfold
While this carilon played, placed on a shelf
Saint Nick faced the mirror and bowed to himself

With wide arms stretched, out from his side
He started to turn, to weave and to glide.
With a grace and an air of days thought to be gone
He danced as the room shimmered with song

For dance rooms are magical places of old
Where soul becomes movement and stories retold
Across our small world on Christmas Eve
Magic is recharged with a song and a weave

Whatever the room, in or out of the way
Wherever feet dance, Santa’s carilon will play

As the music wound down, slowed and then ceased
The box placed in silk, worn and well creased
A sudden gust of snow, gone sleigh and deer
Only the night’s silence, this task done for one year

In the whisper of snowflakes, you might have heard
Not a slogan, nor shouting, not even a word
Just a tingle, or jangle, and if one truly did try
Perhaps Santa’s carilon, in the Christmas Eve sky