Trip the light fantastic!

Dear P.,

You held me in your arms, we danced all night
To music with an ever rising beat,
But though you told me that my steps were light,
Your heavy tread has damaged my poor feet!
You told me that you’d now learnt how to dance;
At last, you said, you really did know how
To waltz’ you proudly emphasised that now
You quick-stepped, rhumba’d – just give you the chance.
I took you at your words – but they were lies –
My feet have told me so, not only once
But several times. You really cannot dance
With me again. I hope you realise
That both my feet are now in plaster cast.
The doctor took one look and was aghast!


Yours, M.