Dance, Baby! Dance!

     Writing poetry is in my blood.  My grandmother's poetry was published and what little I've read of it was quite moving.  However I seem to be missing part of the gene (perhaps the part accompanied by mental illness) and I find that poetry is not my forte.  Sometimes I find a diamond in the ruff of my attempts...or maybe just something that looks a little pretty.

I give you my attempt at poetry:

You can do the Twist or the Tango, 
the Waltz or the Worm,
the Mash Potato or Mambo,
the Sprinkler or Squirm.

You might cut a rug,
or bust a move,
hit the floor,
or get into the groove.

But nothing comes close to the wiggle and squirm,
the sway and the stomp,
the hop and the bop,
of dance in a toddler's world.



I hope you enjoyed my poem.  As always, I appreciate any feedback.  :)