Shota

Don't pick me..
I am an unknown
quantity..don't assume
that you know me..
I play to my own tune.
I watched them dance
with their paper hankies,
for weeks..
 their fancy feet
doing their ethnic chants
and rhymic beats
I watched them
knowingly..
and they picked me
on their ceremonial day
to have the honour
to dance their native dance
I followed the lady,
perfectly,
but then the man..
in the finale..
"where did you learn to
dance like Kossova ?"
he said...
from you all !
the men  stood up
a hundred or more
bare knuckled men
unrefined mountains
of pre conceived concepts
regarding English Women
their dominence of the
fairer sex I witnessed
day in day out, it was like
Star Treck, I must not interfere
in their world..
but they clapped and sang
like I had delivered
to the Balklans
 in gesture of culture 
the greatest compliment
the could understand
without the spoken word..
just by chance
Britain nobbled
the Finningley refugees
in their own dance

,