I was blessed with two left feet
Trip over my own toes
But when I hear that bass-line beat
I feel like I should dance
Typically not a graceful girl
I have been known to fall
Sometimes get dizzy when I twirl
Yet still I want to dance
I feel the music in my bones
Calling across the floor
I rise and fall and sway with soul
While now I try to dance
On my toes, suspended I move
I reach, and leap with grace
Believing I have found my groove
Finally I can dance
Prelude
A single drop
Dances arabesque
In the wind -
The skies have announced their final warning.
Serpentine
Here in the reddish soils
Is a lump of green and blue:
A stone, here chiseled, here rolling
As if morphed from clay into
The form it now embodies.
Smooth to the touch, and yet
Here shows signs of shearing -
Its colors more brilliant when wet.
Entering the empty hall
extending far before my eyes
this place has been forgotten
dust is covering its ground.
Letting out a deep silent sigh
gently my eyelids fall
music starts to play, laughter fills the room
it’s time, the ball has just begun.
Opening myself up to the masquerade
gentlemen in black costumes
bowing to the floor, welcoming me in
ushering me to hurry up and find my man.
Masks covering their identities
couples dancing on my left and right
I read too much Emily Dickenson, so I had to write something in her style. :)
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I danced - ‘twas but a little dance
And very poor besides -
I simply felt I would not know
If I had never tried.
I spun around - I laughed and spun,
A minute - maybe three -
Surely that was not cause enough
For the world to turn on me! -
But as soon as I had stopped,
The room tipped up on end.
I fell, but then it started up,
And twirled me ‘round again.
Flowing through the isle
Swishing through the hall
I take my stand alone
My hands curved
My head tilted back
With a look of dreaming
The spotlight flares
It glows around me
Like the moon of night
Music flows my legs do dance
My arms rolling around me
I fly and fall like the frost
On the moor
My eyes beaming with joy
I leap and bound, turn and rise
Upon the dancing floor
This is a true story. It didn't quite happen this way, well, when we moved I tried to do ballet here before fencing, but it just didn't work, the dance schools here are... *shudders* I don't want to think about them. That's when I did fencing and then just today I started Irish Dance. It's good to be back, to be flying again. :P
Sometimes I don't tell people because I think then they'll think this is the reason I quite ballet. But it's not, I love ballet and I know you can do beautiful dances with softshoe.
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Her brown hair, normally rather mousy, reflected a rainbow of colors in the sunlight as she entered the holy place. She was not of the faith, but respected the idea. Her clothes were riotously vivid colors of orange and yellow and red, gold trim and sweeping folds, her jewelry fake gold, heavy and ornate. Only her bindi truly reflected her personality: small, sophisticated, delicate. Her feet were bare and she felt she looked out of place, pale. She nodded to families as she shyly dipped away to a quiet corner of the temple to stretch and wait.