The Ballerina Glass Shoe

There was once a woman
From the lands of Vienna
She was such a dancer, she was caught hummin',
When she danced at night, she was like venom.

She danced on the streets
During the fall, Men that passed by,
Would call her sweet
And beautiful to their eyes.

Women were jealous,
Not just because of her beauty,
But because she was venomous.
She'd have all of the men's
attention, dancing smoothly.

She wore a dark, torn up tutu
With ballerina shoes that had glass heels.
No one ever had such a shoe
People would like to do anything to get them, even slither like eels.

She had dark brown hair
And eyes the same.
Men would often stare,
Thinking it was a game.

But it wasn't a game,
It was an obsession.
Men wondering her name,
Not getting the procession.

That she loved to dance,
That she loved to hum in the night.
To dance in her ballerina glass shoes at last,
To her it felt so right.

She didn't notice the people around her,
She just wondered in her own little world.
She would dance with her hair
Twirling with her, in her own little world.

The lights from people's houses
Lit on her as she passed by each one.
Seeing husbands with their spouses,
Laughing on by having a bunch of fun.

She waited for that special one,
To dance with her.
By her side, until the sun
Came up, and she was only a black blur.

Still night,
People eating dinner,
While she danced in delight.
Knowing one day she will dance into winter.

At the end she came back to reality.
She looked around,
Laughing hard and danced back into eternity.
Everyone staring, hearing the sound

Of her humming,
Of her shoes clapping on the floor,
Of her summing
The whole scene as it was a dance floor, galore.

Knowing that winter will come soon,
She danced into her house.
Started a fire and turned on her favorite tune
Feet dancing, touching the floor like a mouseâ??s.

She looked back at her ballerina glass shoes,
Smiling, knowing that there will be a tomorrow.
Tomorrow, she will give the Earth its winter, and she is who?
Mother Nature, thatâ??s who, with no sorrow.

She brings us our coldest seasons
With her ballerina glass shoes.
Every time that she dances, it is the reason
That we have fall with its leaves, and winter with its snow.

Every time her feet touch the ground,
The ground changes colors.
Every time she touches a tree,
Its leaves fall down and change colors.

Every time she dances, it changes a season.
Her hums are the wind.
Every man has a reason
To love these seasons, to let love begin.