Ully

Dancers are ill at ease, with spiritual gain, upsets their body release, with boys, girls and women, I feel their curious gaze, am sweating like an oven, Our Lady holds the beam, on cold lit Sundays, hard to shape the dream, my life feels all worn, lost within youthful days, the ballerina's I adore, will let myself seem, so cheery in my praise, their great attempts to be, on trips along the shore , I won't wear grey, is it shame to want more, what love forever stays ?