Dancing

Dancing gives you wings to an aerie place
From whence you get a god’s-eye space.
Up there, you soar above your strife
And tears, your memories of past life.
There is only this now, and you twirl.
You comb the tangos from your curls,
Your hair both wild and coy. The boys
And girls, the world, all applaud such joys.
You’ve won the prize, the best. Ah, sweet,
Your future’s a welcome mat at your feet.

©2003 Karen Barrie