Terpsichore
Poor Priddy Prattle
sitting on the stair.
Who comes along
but Fred Astaire.
Stretch your limbs,
relax and dance.
Up, he implores,
dance and prance.
Poor Priddie Prattle
had not a clue,
stuck in her seat
just like glue.
Then came Twyla
with whim and wit.
Down beside her
she did sit.
Poor Priddie Prattle
proffered a frown.
She did not want
to appear a clown.
Tina slinked up
with extended hand.
“Dance my rockin’
and rollin’ band.”
Proud Priddie Prattle
stood up on pegs,
but danced away
on rock ’n roll legs.
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