ó╤≥    ó╤≥    dancing     ó╤≥    ó╤≥    

               “Dancing is the poetry of the foot.”—John Dryden
 
               if you find me dancing,                
                       chances are i've found my happiness,        
                               arabesque romancing,
                                       fleet feet kissing floors with wantonness.
 
                                       your sweet laugh, the music,
                               as your heart the metronomic pulse,
                       though a fragile yardstick
               for to measure how my dreams convulse.
 
               ballotté et ballón
                       bring me closer to your quiet arms,
                               where i find rife passion
                                       mingled with the brisé of your charms.
 
                                       i could dance forever,
                               just as long as elevé is mine;
                       even by the river,
               where i tasted first your lips divine.
 
               © Copyright 2023 October 26
                     by Clyve A. Bowen♫