THE MUSIC BOX

Tea for two, and a biscuit with Granny

giggles and games, I recall there were many

but clearest of all,

I recall the small music box.

Hidden inside, a tiny ballerina

waiting to dance there, in front of her mirror

at my beck and call

once I had unclipped the locks.

Lifting the lid, I would take a peak under

up she would pop, not so much as a blunder

though not very tall

she would stretch to the sky

pirouettes fashioned on blue satin lining

tutu pure white, in the limelight, there shining

I somehow recall

just for Granny and I

© Allan Cropper

• Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #16