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New Belle Of The Ball Poems

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The Belle of the Ball by Green, Chris
Betty the Belle of the Ball by Munyoki, Willy
Belle of the Ball by Devonshire, Carolyn
THE BELLE OF THE BALL by ALLISON, JAN

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The Best Belle Of The Ball Poems

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Ballroom Delights Waltz With My Prince

    Elegant intoxicating ballroom, with polished marble floor, archways lining the walls rising to the ceiling in Mahoney trim, candle holders with lit candles between each arch to match the, enormous elegant Swarovski crystal chandelier, that sparkle,  to a brilliance of the evening ball. The fragrance of perfumes, colognes, and fine cuisine fill the air.

    The ballroom is full of singles and couple, wearing their finest long gowns, and tails, their white ties and gloves, dancing to the music of the orchestra while others feast on desserts and champagne.

    My Prince stands with the other gents waiting for me to make an entrance. 

    I’m anxious to show off my sleeveless flowing gown, made out of white silk chiffon, embellished with lace and scattered pearls. I feel like the belle of the ball.

    My Prince comes up to me and ask, “May I have this dance.”  He fills my dance card, reaches out for my hand, and leads me to the dance floor, while my heart is beating faster than the music. The orchestra starts playing a slow waltz and the intoxicating turning movements and the one, two, three, steps of the waltzing speed brings intimating pleasure of ecstasy that is hard to ignore. 

    The evening comes to an end and my Prince walks me to the door and kisses my hand Goodnight.

By Eve Roper 11/24/2014
Contest Ballroom Delights 
Sponsor by Isaiah Zerbst

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

PUTTIN ON THE GLITZ - FOR CONTEST

An invitation arrives to my first dance
I'm hoping for some sweet romance
But I haven’t got a stitch to wear
Hope I find some creative flair

Top hat and tails and lots of glam
If I don’t find a dress it will be a sham
Off to the thrift shop I must go
For a few dollars I can be the star of the show

I pick up a stylish pink feather boa
Like the posh ladies wear from Genoa
A designer dress for a couple of bucks
Hope the guys come here for there’s a lovely tux

A pair of high heels and my outfit is complete
Those society ladies simply cannot compete
I will simply be the belle of the ball
For my outfit will look the best of them all

When I arrive at the dance I simply steal the show -
That night I go home with a handsome new beau!


Contest:-) Putttin on the Ritz
Sponsor Judy Konos
10th August 2015
Jan Allison

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

The belle of the ball and most frightening of all is Sticky Fingers McRaccoon.
He knows how to win, and how to get in, with his gang, of crazy ragamuffins.
He’s never invited, but won’t ever be slighted, as he comes along, for a crime.
And the birthday bash, yes, that he did crash… for a fun filled jolly old time.

We kept our eyes, on him, all the time, but found later, we’d been bamboozled.
As we watched him, someone broke in, and our shiny bobbles, had been hustled.
We were humbled to know, we’d been treated so, and vowed to get vengeance.
Instead of making a fuss, we got FunkunDilly, to follow him home, in silence.

You see, a squirrel can climb, and see, from way up in the trees, to reconnoiter.
Not only our goods, but all other’s too, were caught quite true, with our ardor...
While Sticky Fingers McRaccoon, slept with joyous dreams, of glorious plunder.
But when he woke up, he was surrounded by Trolls, with faces meaner than badgers.

Now violence is not what we sought, rather a job, that would suit them, quite well.
His plunder now gone, and clubs close in Troll hands, he agreed to, our bombshell.
He and his gang, were bespelled, by our neighbor witch, to forever live in Las Vegas.
With Trolls to supervise, a Magic McRaccoon Show, would be totally, tremendous.

McRaccoon wasn’t mean, he’d just lost his dreams, you see, that were so wonderous.
Now he was free, to make a great dream, in a way that was so bubbly, and contagious.
Siegfried and Roy, look out my boys, McRaccoon is on his way, to massive greatness.
All because he stole Lilly’s toys, and FunkunDilly had brought down their crimes, demise.

There would now be magical shows, where the front seats, would be ours, to plunder.
Trolls would arrive, to help at all times, as friends they all slowly, became, forever.

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Searching For Rella


It was just another Saturday night,
wasn't with nobody
My pockets were full
and my heart was on call
I was dressed to the nines,
and my hair was laid just fine
when I stepped into the 
Coats-For-Kids charity ball
I made the usual walk through,
did the casual mingle
Bumping elbows with the upper crust crew,
it was a nice mix of married and single
All the heavy hitters were just rolling in,
as I gave a holla to a couple of close friends
Started getting a good vibe when I saw
the deejay who was spinning here
He was the same one who was thumping the tunes
at my baby sister's wedding last year
It was about a quarter past ten,
when I saw a black limo carriage cruise in
And when the chauffeur opened the door,
out stepped a vision of beauty I never seen before:
Gold dress
Emerald low-cut heels
I said to myself ... is this fairy tale for real
Asymmetrical sculpted hair
Chocolate pearl-shaped eyes
She illuminated the place like a tropical sunrise
I followed her everywhere as she floated through the crowd
being ogled and cat-called
Her path parted a sea of whispers of ooh and aahs
Then she suddenly stopped,
and without turning, held out her hand
Beckoning me to come dance
I danced with a princess under crystal chandelier light,
we chatted and laughed until nearly midnight
We talked of romantic things; 
misty meadows and enchanting moon beams,
aromatic glades and sipping lemonade in balmy shade
We talked of irreverent things; 
favorite TV shows and watching drifting snow blow,
performance art critiques and specialty items at small boutiques
We talked of cerebral things; 
the longevity of coniferous trees, the hive hierarchy of the bees,
the societal impact of big pharma, the reciprocity of karma
But of ourselves, we only knew each other's first name
With unspoken mutual consent, 
we embraced, with playfulness, the mystery of the courtship game
Then, as the clock began to midnight chime,
she gasped and intoned she was out of time
And just as quickly as we met,
she departed in haste with no decorum or grace
As the black limo streaked away,
in my stunned silence, I happened to look down
and was shocked at what lay on the floor ---
one emerald shoe
Now what was I to do?
The only thing about her I knew,
was that her name was Rella
I searched everywhere for a year,
was just a sad, crestfallen fella
At the charity ball the following year,
she didn't come and no one knew who she was
Then a short while after that ... I gave up looking
It was almost two years later, on a clear spring day,
I went window shopping at a mall
Saw a set of glasses that came with a smile,
I saw again that beautiful belle of the ball
I told her that I had been searching for her,
and that I had her emerald shoe
She said: while you were out there looking for me,
I was always praying and waiting for you

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Next Time I See You

Next Time I See You

I will sing a wonderful song my dear
And quickly lend me your kind ear
Was about a girl who was so sweet
Abruptly swept me off of my feet.

She seemed to be a Miss Belle of the Ball
Who had me pinned against the wall
I surely liked her and this she did know
Smiling, laughing eyes had told me so.

How much I loved and loved that night
While dancing until dawn's early light
Then like Cinderella she soon flew away
Both her and her baggage the same day.

You must know who this girl is by now
And I hope to see you again somehow
I only want one fairy tale to come true
Will be the next time when I see you.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Fourteen Million To One

What if I happened to win the lottery
What would I do with the money
Spend it on all kinds of frivolous things
Or a year long trip with my honey

Eat in restaurants three times a day
Choose the richest item on the menu
Act like a snobbish old mucky muck
And obnoxious no matter the venue

They'd surely know I was 'nouveau riche'
By my big mouth flamboyant air
But I wouldn't care, with a bulging wallet
I'd do everything with panache and flair

Quite a pipe dream I'm currently having
Not a chance this lovable jester
Could be anything but the belle of the ball
A vision of beauty in polyester

Odds are about fourteen million to one
So I won't be buying the beer
More chance of becoming a cultural icon
Like Mylie or Britney Spears

© Jack Ellison 2012

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Azalea

Azalea! Belle of the ball
Elegant stylish grace,
Flowing swirls,
Shades of pink satin
Air of sophistication,
Awakening imaginations 
Love and nature,
Played a part,
Warm breezes swayed,
Different dream worlds,
Dancing emotions waltzed,
Romance bloomed,
Midnight hopes disappeared,
Twelve o’clock struck,
Cinderella! 
A fairy tale,
But for Azalea,
She remains
Always and forever,
A very beautiful flower.

Wendy Jae

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

elle

Belle

Belle of the ball, darling of every man’s eye, 
I floated ‘neath my emerald gown gracefully
So many pretty men held out their hand to me
Spurning them coquettishly, I batted eyelashes
behind which my predator’s eyes ravaged
each suitor
Beauty resplendent, darling of no other belle
Captivating, dancing on the floor where no
mirror laid its encumbrances upon me
No need to seek pale reflection when every
eye marks me and sends me swooning glances
Princes and poets, emperors and fools, all
made a clumsy queue to vie for my next dance
Laughing, I let them twirl me and felt their
hot breath on my neck
Hunger rose
Tenderly I went through the menu, summing
up plumpness or paucity of flesh
My upturned nose could scent the ill and
ruined, and this night I was having none of
those
Then sweating eagerly came young soldier
in laughing brass buttons and tender eyes
Enchanted with me, he led me round the
floor
I feigned faintness, allowing him
to take me to a cozened balcony, 
where he, with beating heart, 
did touch me tenderly
Alas, balcony in form only 
Dining hall elaborate and flowery
When the hot spurt of his blood
flowered my lips, my center burst
its dams as well
I will not kill him, this sweet one
I have sired, too savory for a snack
Instead he shall a banquet be

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Growing Pains

(Written in 1970 when I was a junior in high school)

Kyle’s only three and quite the tyke
And he wants to ride a two wheel bike
But his mom and dad say he’s too small
And they’re afraid that he might fall
Now on his cheek a tear-track’s stain
He’s suffering from growing pains

Jill’s just thirteen and she can’t wait
‘Til she goes out on her first date
She finds it hard to bite her tongue
When her parents say she’s still too young
She feels this treatment is inhumane
She’s suffering from growing pains

At twenty-four Paul’s a broken man
He went to college with big plans
‘Til he gave in to that young girl’s charms
And she stuck a needle into his arm
Now his plans revolve around cocaine
He’s suffering from growing pains

She’s thirty-five and should have it all
Because Erin was always the belle of the ball
But four kids and a job have taken their toll
And now she is feeling far beyond old
She once was a beauty but now she’s just plain
She’s suffering from growing pains

He’s forty-one and Bill had success
But now his life is a real mess
He thought to be rich, but he hadn’t figured
That he’d end up married to a gold digger
He has everything to lose and nothing to gain
He’s suffering from growing pains

Just fifty-six and in Jean’s once sharp mind
Her thoughts and dreams are so intertwined
That she doesn’t know which ones are real
Or what emotions she should feel
The doctor’s say she’s quite insane
She’s suffering from growing pains

Sixty years have now come and gone
And Bob sits staring at his lawn
He once took great care to keep it neat
Now it hurts too much to be on his feet
And he tries so hard to not complain
He’s suffering from growing pains

She’s seventy-one and Laura finds
Herself alone again in time
She’s lost her husband of some fifty years
And now she has nothing but her tears
She feels her heart has split in twain
She’s suffering from growing pains

At eighty-seven, Ed looks out
His window and wonders what life’s all about
Everyone he knew is gone
And he dreads facing another dawn
Now the organ plays a sad refrain
He’s suffered life’s final growing pain

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Ballroom Gown Moment

Pastel pink ballgown floats on horizon
Belle of the ball accompanied by gray gents
Dancing into early morn, roosters sing on
Still accented by soft entertainment

So swiftly has the dance floor changed to light
Like life that changes slipping up on us
A mother bird busied herself with bright
Eyes and wide mouths, then gone is little fuss

Cool is the morn, damp the air_ comfortable
Soon the golden sun will warm the air, chase
Away the chill, send me inside unable
To enjoy nature, But God's presence is in place

A few ballgown minutes, time moves onward
Thank you for this time in heart undergird

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

FAIRYTALE

Hear me.
 My words,
 with ink tell the tale
of a lady and her lord.
See me.
My pen,
miming their accord.
The laughter; soundlessly
R i n g i n g     
in your ears.
The merry heartbreak
spilling golden champagne;
T e a r s.
Cries of passion
dancing across the floor
chandeliered to the moment
within our first embrace.

The horses depart, printing across my floor.
They carry him from me.
Belle of the ball draped on a chair
I startle from my dream.

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

The Ice Dancer

The Ice Dancer.

She got up each morning
at the crack of dawn,
did toe loops like no-one,
all part of the sport,
her triple axles
were a sight to behold,
as they followed her progress
she had them in awe.

Her steps were so light that
they couldn’t believe,
how she defied Death,
with every move up her sleeve,
she traversed the ice,
at such a pace,
the whole crowd were spellbound,
catching their breath.

“It’s not the winning!”
that’s what she said.
“It’s believing - fate takes care of the rest!”
“It’s not the winning, that matters to me.
It’s the struggle, and joy, along the way.”

She went round the world,
was the envy of all,
and wherever she went
was the belle of the ball,
but she didn’t have time for 
a family,
because this ice-dancer
wanted to be free.


She danced in Spain, 
and Moscow,
Britain and France,
the audience flocked to 
see her dance,
and this vision on ice had the courage of a man,
but the heart of a woman,
to understand.

“It’s not the winning,”
she smiled, as she grasped
a shining trophy,
and the whole crowd gasped.
“It’s more than winning!”
she said to me,
“It’s leaving you something,
for posterity.”

And now the ice stadium’s
closed for the rest of the day,
the crowd have shed
tears,
and gone on their way.
The ice is still covered,
in bouquets of red,
and a little ice dancer
is tucked up in bed.

And she is dreaming,
one day she will know,
the joys of the prizes,
wherever she goes.
And she hopes she will dance
like her heroine,
and she hears all her words,
in her heart, 
like rain.

“It’s not the winning, it’s the journey with you,
the places I went, and the people I knew,
and if I do something, that can raise the sport,
then, that’s all that matters,
cos life’s so short”

And now she’s dreaming,
of a little girl
who gave her a rose,
as she twirled, and twirled.
She knows the journey, and the hard knocks,
but there’s something about her, 
something she’s got.

“It’s not the winning -
we lose in the end,
and losing is winning,
if it goes to a friend.
It’s not the winning,
or getting the prize.
It’s being a dreamer,
and doing it right.”

Copyright Suzy Davies 07/29/2016. All Rights Reserved.

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Fourteen Million To One



What if I happened to win the lottery
What would I do with the money
Spend it on all kinds of frivolous things
Or a year long trip with my honey

Eat in restaurants three times a day
Choose the richest item on the menu
Act like a real old mucky muck
And obnoxious no matter the venue

They'd surely know I was 'nouveau riche'
By my big mouth flamboyant air
But I wouldn't care with a bulging wallet
Doing everything with panache and flair

What a pipe dream I'm currently having
As if this sweet old loveable jester
Could be anything but the belle of the ball
A vision of beauty in polyester

Odds are about fourteen million to one
So I won't be buying the beer
More chance of becoming a cultural icon
Like Cyrus or Perry or Spears

© Jack Ellison 2014

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Porcelain Dancing Statuette

Statuesque, graceful beauty dancing with joy
Porcelain glazed skin and delicate features
Southern belle of the ball, your day has passed
Dandy boys desire your loving affections
Porcelain glazed skin and delicate features
Strong of will to take this life by the hand
Dandy boys desire  your loving affections
Ready for action, a survivor to behold
Strong of will to take this life by the hand
Southern belle of the ball your day has passed
Ready for action, a survivor to behold
Statuesque, graceful beauty dancing with joy!

For the Pantoum contest, Thanks for the challenge!
This was chosen to be published.

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem |

Fourteen Million To One

What if I happened to win the lottery
What would I do with the money
Spend it on all kinds of frivolous things
Or a year long trip with my honey

Eat in restaurants three times a day
Choose the richest item on the menu
Act like a real old mucky muck
And obnoxious no matter the venue

They'd surely know I was 'nouveau riche'
By my big mouth flamboyant air
But I wouldn't care with a bulging wallet
I'd do everything with panache and flair

What a pipe dream I'm currently having
As if this sweet old lovable jester
Could be anything but the belle of the ball
A vision of beauty in polyester

Odds are about fourteen million to one
So I won't be buying the beer
More chance of becoming a cultural icon
Like Mylie Cyrus or Britney Spears

Best Belle Of The Ball Poems | Poetry

New Belle Of The Ball Poems

The Best Belle Of The Ball Poems

THE BELLE OF THE BALL

Belle of the Ball

The Belle of the Ball

CINDERELLA GOLDENROD

Ballroom Delights Waltz With My Prince

The Lady Tiger And The Mouse

PUTTIN ON THE GLITZ - FOR CONTEST

Masquerade

Table for Four Please

Queenie

Betty the Belle of the Ball

AUTUMN CLOUD

Sticky Fingers McRaccoon

Searching For Rella

Next Time I See You

Fourteen Million To One

Azalea

elle

Growing Pains

Ballroom Gown Moment

FAIRYTALE

The Ice Dancer

Fourteen Million To One

Porcelain Dancing Statuette

Fourteen Million To One