A dancing Dervish daffodil
Among the simple ivy vines
Contrasting personalities 
So Like a white birch near the pines.

A flashing yellow petticoat
Beneath a lighter silky dress
A headliner on old Broadway,
Our diva dearest nonetheless.

The audience, proper and prim
In slacks and vests of forest green.
They don't know what to make of this,
There own flashy dancing prom queen.

Much like a Greenwich Village girl
In villages all Mennonite,
A yellow butterfly or bird
They never have seen such a sight

So mesmerized, the watching crowd
Until the twilight ends the show
Returning now to normalcy
simple country folk have to grow.