The Red Shoes
Lying on a shelf in a house quite far away
hidden in a linen and tucked away to stay
lies a heel of cherry leather with a trim of gold brocade.
The shoes of sweet and delicate curves
is a sweet toned bobble that simply serves
to keep calm and of course remind her.
Remind her, a woman, long since young
long ago she spun and swung
'tis a trinket of the times she had fun
Years ago this simple, pretty face
danced around in Germanic grace
not a care disgraced her face
soon came times that were hard for certain
on her radiant dance there fell a curtain
her life grew hard and then uncertain
evil men grew in her world
she lost her dream of when she leaped and twirled
afterall, now she was just one lonely girl
after a time spent in hiding
she escaped, and henceforth guiding
others into a land void of fighting
and now, free, she sits alone
her story may not be well known
at least she is safe, though far from home
in her age her talent fled
no longer do her toes swiftly tread
but she still has memories, which will never be dead
all from those dancing shoes that were red.
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