Take this hand

My pretty lady,

The world is spinning

And the urge is whirling

To cover the dance floor

With fleet-footed steps.

I can’t promise

What comes next,

When so much of what

I know from years observing

Is free-form at best.


So, just go with the flow

And who knows,

This foxtrot might just –

Grace permitting –

End up being,

With a touch of panache

And a pinch of pizzazz,

A rather touching prance

Or perchance a new kind of

Syncopated dance.


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Filed under Music, Poetry, Thoughts

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