The Ballerina

It all started that day
When mom said to clean my room
I did and found the book
It sat beneath my computer
A pile of pastel chalk upon it
A display of pictures inside
One of which a ballerina
"Draw me!" cried she
So I drew the ballerina
So pretty and petite
The shadow the fell across the face
Now fell across my sketchbook
Out came the page, into the scanner
And now there's a ballerina on my desk.