The Dancer

He stood beside the fireplace
in studied nonchalance,
to hide the envy in his face
and wished that he could dance.

Then suddenly, as though the wish
had triggered off the notion,
he joined the dancers on the floor
in obvious emotion.

He leapt a ballet dancers leap,
gyrated like a top,
danced on urgent, frenzied feet,
a sort of wild gavotte.

He rocked around the crowded room,
he rolled along the hall.
He danced without a helping tune
and without grace at all.

He did not dance with pleasure,
nor did he seem to tire
and as he danced outside we saw
his trousers were on fire.