The Waltz
I once met a woman,
her name is Pat Rocks
She taught me a chasse,
and a grapevine and locks

And spirals, and twinkles and feathers and a box
I think she will kill me,
This Dance Demon, Ms. Rocks
And with Tom, her dear hubby
I learned Drag Hesitation Whisk, wing and weave and
Every waltz step in creation
I start to feel numb- just like needles and pins
Trying to learn naturals,
impetus and spins
Let us not forget telemarks or the hover corte´
As I collapse before finishing promenade fallaway
But in the end, it all came out right
We think of the Rocks as we waltz in the night
And never have we had so much fun---
Truth to tell
Learning this dance called the "Waltz from Hell"

Janet Kutzman

My dance Teacher.

My dance teacher- he's such a Pro
Knows all the dances there are to know
He's got all the right moves
Quick, quick and slow
He's the Mambo King or Senor Bolero

He can dance the Foxtrot just like Astaire
When he waltzes it seems like he's floating on air
Though I practice and practice
I will never compare
To the grace of this dancer Extraordinaire

Yet week after week, with all of my might
I try my hardest to get it all right
But those patterns are tricky
And my feet don't take flight
Spins make me dizzy and my shoes are too tight!

Keep firm your frame. Drag your feet on the ground
Swing out your legs. Keep your arms loose and down.
Head this way and that way.
Stop bouncing around.
Step in time to the music. Try not to frown.

Heel leads and toe taps, rising and falling
It gets so confusing and really quite galling
That my Quickstep is slow
And my Tango's appalling
I start to wonder-Is this really my calling?

Our lesson is over. He says with a smile
"That was really quite good. You danced with great style"
Well maybe, just maybe, I can get though this trial
For that one moment of triumph makes it all worthwhile.

Janet Kutzman 4/06