Little Adam’s great big noddle
soars up on his stem-like neck.
He’s been praised: His dancing’s soulful!
Adam’s does a stiff-legged, doleful
waltz as serious as heck
and is ill at ease as model.
Now the ladies do the asking.
Adam’s spared all overtasking.
Sits midst empty chairs, though ready,
sees his friends go past him twirling.
Long-limbed Len’s got Constance whirling,
four are fighting over Freddy!
Lonely Adam walks from there,
dancing lesson learnt already.
Some get four, some five ensnare,
some get one, and some get no one –
there’s clean sweeps and there’s misère.
All of life’s small stars so wilful
failed his path to once traverse.
Now he wants to go back home and
pen his first few lines of verse.
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