Why do you do this I hear people say

It doesn’t look hard – you could do it all day

How do you explain the addiction it is

The excitement, the comps and your head in a tizz

For me it is more than the fake tan and tights

The bright leotards, the unflattering lights

When we get to the heart of makes us return

Year in and year out – some new work to learn

Let’s stop for a moment and consider the objective

I can only explain this from my own perspective

I go every week for a chat and some fun

And somewhere in between the syllabus gets done.

There’s always a part that we think looks ridiculous

But we struggle and practice and don’t let it get to us

And then there’s the comp that starts all too soon

The cramming to learn that last part of the tune

Remembering positions – is it 5th, 1st or 3rd?

Portabra, portabore – this lingo’s absurd!

We stand altogether in the wings and we wait

It’s our turn! We’re now out to battle our fate

 We pull back our shoulders, with chins in the air

Double checking our bras and our fabulous hair

Lifting up tall and showing our abs
Out onto the floor we march looking quiet fab!

We get through the warm up, can we get through the dance

Try not to collapse or move from your stance

Don’t be the one who goes the wrong way

Too late – it is me!! – It’s just not my day!

But we keep on performing our faces don’t flinch

With the look that says “easy – this stuff is a cinch!”

And the winner today is ….. who cares after all?

It’s someone’s opinion on that certain floor

A badge for your sash in the yearly march past

But is that why we do it? You don’t have to ask.

It’s the bond between women that men just don’t get

That feminine need, a place with no threat

We may not see each other from one week to another

I’m telling you straight we’re as close as a mother

We share our lives through all the good and the bad

We laugh and we cry, share the fun and the sad

 Physical Culture is our one saving grace

Through the life that we live at too hectic a pace

We should all make the time to nourish our soul

Without Physie I daresay our lives would be droll

So let’s all reflect and give Physie it’s due

                    A toast to this sport for us privileged few

Here’s to Physie!

Poem By Anonymous