Dancing

When we met and first danced,
It started with,
A grand slow waltz by Johann Strauss,
And evolved,
By the end of the evening,
Into a series of,
Kay Starr rock-’n-roll waltzes.

As we parted,
You ask for my phone,
To enter your number, you said,
So that by sending to yourself,
You would be able to text me later,
And, by name,
I would know it was  you.

At 2 in the morning,
My phone played,
That 1964 number by Miss Star,
I had assigned to your name.

No words in your message,
But the picture displayed there,
Raised hope in my mind,
(and else where),
Of what would come,
That evening,
When again,
We danced together.

As I lay back down,
I was dreaming Sinatra’s version,
Of dancing being,
Making love set to music.

I had visions of what might begin,
As a grand fancy dress ballroom waltz from Strauss,
Ending in the frantic,
Twisting, rocking and rolling,
Of an entirely different sort of,
Undressed dance to music,
Played by our bodies,
In harmony.