The 9th Day of Christmas: I cannot dance upon my toes by Emily Dickinson.

I wonder where those nine ladies were dancing?

At a ball, I suppose, all dressed in their finest, the sheen of their silks dazzling the men into tameness.

Or in some sparkling ballet?

Or perhaps, or perhaps...

...perhaps it was not an orchestra that lifted their limbs, but a thrill of joy. Perhaps it was not the need to conquer that traced the patterns through the air, but sheer high spirits.

Perhaps it was not the skill of long tutoring that rose towards grace, but the rising of Nature through the bounds of Civilisation until -

I cannot dance upon my Toes

by Emily Dickinson

I cannot dance upon my Toes --
No Man instructed me --
But oftentimes, among my mind,
A Glee possesseth me,

That had I Ballet knowledge --
Would put itself abroad
In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe --
Or lay a Prima, mad,

And though I had no Gown of Gauze --
No Ringlet, to my Hair,
Nor hopped to Audiences -- like Birds,
One Claw upon the Air,

Nor tossed my shape in Eider Balls,
Nor rolled on wheels of snow
Till I was out of sight, in sound,
The House encore me so --

Nor any know I know the Art
I mention -- easy -- Here --
Nor any Placard boast me --
It's full as Opera --



Word To Use Today: ballet. This word comes from the Italian balletto, a little dance, from ballare, to dance.