Choreographic Synchronicity

With poverty bedeviled
the tiny girl looked grimy and disheveled.
From my balcony, I watched her with keen eyes.
She looked around, with mute sighs.
Then her eyes brightened, seeing something;
in a copse, a peacock quietly dancing.
Lo and behold! She threw back her unwashed hair
in untrammeled ecstasy, free from worldly care.
Matching step with step, she went round and round
with the vigour of an energetic jive
the frail figure was fully alive.
Tiny steps tapping …tapping away.
This way and that, merrily swaying away.

Morphing into the first ray of the morning sun
the thrill of a songster trilling away,
warming cold hearts on a chilly day.
Her small body pirouetted and spun
stunning me with her elegance,
her awe- inspiring performance.
Diving and floating in sheer exultation
A throb of jubilation; a heartbeat of elation.

From her face soon fell the grime
now she was an exquisite rhyme.

The lackluster garden suddenly was a riot of green
a peacock and a sprite dancing in a copse unseen
such chorographic synchronicity never had I seen.
Unadulterated freedom erasing the evil and obscene.
Sheathing the surroundings in a joy, ah, so serene.