Dancing in Glass Slippers by Elaine Edwards
Did Cinderella wonder,
when she proffered her foot for the glass slipper
just what she was getting into?
Tight fragile footwear should have forecast
the dangers and delights:
corseted dresses, precarious tiaras,
no chance to go barefoot
let your hair down
be slovenly, spontaneous
( the paparazzi
are around every corner).
And what about Prince Charming?
Was what she saw, what she got?
-those riding boots, no doubt with spurs,
the relentless pursuit with the precious shoe-
how could this reconcile
with her delightful dancing partner?
“Tea now, dear?” asks my husband, folding his newspaper.
“Lovely, darling” I say, knitting away in front of the fire.
Give me comfy old sheepskin slippers