The smell of cookies fills the air,
And viewers rush to find a chair.
The curtain rises, stage is set
Nothing moves onstage as of yet.
So let me introduce to you
The cast, backstage, before we view
Our wordless, antique Christmas tale.
First in our order, without fail
The Party Guest waits to go on.
She smooths her skirt, but wait, she’s gone!
And then we see, she’s back again
Her face has split into a grin.
Movements going on around her
Shall never break that composure.
Her dress is red, her bow is gold,
Her muscles begin to grow cold.
Holds a gift, but rarely present,
Her greetings are ever pleasant.
There to welcome her to the scene,
The characters have since been seen.
Full of joy and Christmas spirit
Yet she never wants to hear it
And, when backstage, we hear her cry
“Tired!” “In pain!” “The music- why?”
The characters are numerous
Amount of shoes superfluous
This dancer has many faces
Other charms for other cases.
Her personality abounds
And loves to have others around.
When the characters go to bed
Mice and soldiers play in their stead.
Sharp and daring with their keen swords,
Our soldier often feels ignored.
Stands at the back and hangs her head
Emotions are easily read.
As a mouse she is quick and light,
For her focus you’ll have to fight
With ready reason and supply
Of inspiration, just to try.
The mice fall dead, the soldiers leave
For Chinese Tea on Christmas Eve.
This dancer flings her arms around
Without control; then there’s the sound
Of her feet slamming on the floor.
She should belong back with the corps,
But her mother gets to decide,
So she will never be denied
Any high and prominent role.
She, the tea, could dance like a troll,
Lack in technique, forget her place,
And all the rest still lose the race.
Softly on steps the Sugar Plum
The envy of all those who come
And watch. The best of all the best
With talent she’s been truly blessed.
And though she may lack in her brains,
With passion she’ll take up the reins.
Presents her gift in every note,
Anxiety won’t let her float.
Greatest fear is that she’ll stumble,
Please dear viewer, do not mumble.
But watch her feet, so light and fast
Onstage she’s ever unsurpassed.
It’s hard to see this beauty go,
Except for when it starts to snow.
Though every snowflake is unique,
They stay together, so to speak.
A blizzard ought to move in sync;
He might as well be made of ink.
Tallest, loudest, the only male,
Plus a rather quiet detail.
One-half of every partnership,
He never fails to make a quip
In response to straight arms, straight lines.
With all these things, nothing defines
Him, the snowflake, quite like laughter.
It’s my turn to come on after.
Flowers of red and green and blue,
I’m floaty, fun, and graceful, too!
Although my mind is full of facts,
And while my natural talent lacks,
I offset with dedication.
First to cite the combination.
The saving grace of the teacher,
And motivational speaker.
My greatest goal will be hard work;
From a challenge, I will not shirk.
But this effort wilts the flower
Exhausted by the final hour.
Altogether, we move as one
Making the Nutcracker quite fun.
Work together, not perfectly,
But graceful? I say certainly.
While different, we all share the same
Passion, to dance, and gain acclaim.
So take your seat, enjoy the show,
As now it’s time for me to go.