Poem -
The dance
Standing upon the stage,
Dressed all in white,
Hair an a bun spun with feathers,
Poised, graceful akin to a swan,
Starting to dance almost gliding,
Up onto your toes you spin on one,
Jumping, leaping twirling across the stage,
All to soon the movement stopped,
You drop to your knees arms outstretched,
The swan is dying,
She is no more.
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Comments
Excellent way to describe movement. What a beautiful poem here Tracy
Thank you x
I love this. This is one of those poems that can mean many things. It can be simply about a moment in the ballet itself...as is the image these words first bring to mind. Or it can describe someone's mental state. Someone's life experiences. This poem is subtle, it drifts on the poetic lake as a benign but beautiful poem...but there are ripples and if you look below the surface this poem is as deep as the waters in this lake itself. A gorgeous, well constructed poem and I wish I could give it a thousand stars x
Thank you so much for your comments x