The Ball

The symbols crash and drums beat out a pace.
Now all join in and never miss a beat.
The men approach the girls with pretty face.
The couples dance; the homely take a seat.
The partners change and girls who thought they’d dance
All night are found lacking in sincere charm.
Conceited men who thought they had a chance
Are left to gawk with looks of sheer alarm.
The ball is almost over and I pause
When first I see this girl who stands so still.
Her dress is plain and merits no applause
Yet doubles all the beauties in their skill.
We dance, tho late, like no one else before
And now I know I could not ask for more.