My Little Tapping Shoes
By Sarah M
Published 16 September 2014
A raggedy buckle hangs from the shoe
Waiting for the strap to be secured in
So it can dance to the music once again
They are the skin of a sweating camel's back
They are music makers, controlled by the feet
The tears after every lesson,
the extraordinary fights,
were finally solved by getting the step right.
The tap, tap of the metal that fills the room
is the sound of a noisy bear smashing his feet
The malodorous smell of sweat on my feet before I went on stage
is now a memory left in the fragrance of the shoe
The taste of victory, of winning first place.
When I wear them I feel like a proud soldier fighting for his country
Tapping his way to glory!