The Dancers

The lady was beyond beautiful
She held a regal statuesque grace.
She visited him each time
she danced in Paris.

He was the lead dancer
So long ago.
So very long ago.
She had been learning her craft.
He took her under his wing
spent time with her.
Taking away her faults
And her young heart.

They danced the world together
And made love in every city in Europe.
He helped her become prima ballerina
and he was the master of dance.
The years passed so quickly
like leaves in the fall.

His back failed him
Like so many who did the lifting.
And the dance was over for him.
Her dance was was only beginning.

She was in New York
When he died.
And flew to Paris
To kiss his lips for the last time.

Holding a kiss from her lips to her fingertips..
She touched the granite headstone
The cool springtime sunshine of Paris
Lit the golden filligree of his name.

As thought it was responding to her.
Saying Dance well my darling.
Dance so very well.