In Lavender

For this term they're in lavender,
Though last year it was pink.
The little ballerinas 
Grow up quicker than you'd think.

They line up in their leotards
With energy to burn
And follow their instructor 
As they run and leap and turn.

Each week they gather in a group,
Too young for mean girl cliques
But likely that will change 
When personalities won't mix.

For now, though, they're a happy bunch,
So innocent and sweet,
And watching them cavort
In ballet slippers is a treat.