Litle things, fragile things, dreamed of things, and for any child a mystical thing not allowed to be explore, dissect or "see" how it works.

I remember the little ballerina
on her toes, dancing around,
following the weak music
coming from the little case.

Look, but don't touch,
Grandmother used to say,
it's very old, a gift I got
when I was a little girl.

Sometimes I thought it was
an older version of Tinkerbell,
remembering that gracious
dancer trying to fly away.

The tunes sounded childish,
yet, charming were they,
with the kind of innocence
that was found in those days.

Look, but don't touch,
it's very old they would say,
but you know? I don't care
if it gets broken, she most be
tired of dancing for more
that two hundred years.