Gladiolus in full bloom neath her ruby pointe shoes, as she pirouettes to the glory of moonlight’s lustre; shooting stars only serve to remind her of ships that sailed and days gone by, so they bloom, the gladiolus. Pearls, they fall atop her pointe shoes one by one as she fouettés to the melody of the night birds, their song plucking her heartstrings; then she recalls that one day; so they fall, the pearls. |