Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Dance Poems

Below are the all-time best Dance poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of dance poems written by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Dance Poems

Search for Dance poems, articles about Dance poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Dance poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Dance Poems
Read Dance Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Dance Poem | |

THE BELLE OF THE BALL

My dress is made of fine peach coloured* lace Hair is in ringlets, which frames my pretty face The lights in the room cast a romantic glow My first ever ball; I must go with the flow The orchestra strikes up a wonderful tune Ladies and gentlemen glide round the room I stand on the sidelines I am oh so very shy Then a dashing young man catches my eye I smile at him, then I coyly avert my eyes I find him so handsome; that I cannot disguise He reaches tenderly for my awaiting hand We move to the dance floor; oh it is so grand His arm wrapped around my tiny waist We dance to the music, there is no haste So full of excitement at the hope of romance I float round the room at my very first dance At the end of the dance he bows down low My heart is aflutter I hope this does not show He leads me gently to the side of the room Sweet roses enchant us, we smell their perfume Time flies by so fast and we dance all night He looks in my green eyes and to my delight Whispers so gently those words I long to hear You simply are the belle of the ball my dear He reaches out gently and kisses my hand My first ever ball has been oh so grand Sadly now it is time for me to depart I bid adieu to the man who has stolen my heart 11~15~14 *English spelling used Contest: Ballroom Delights Sponsor Isaiah Zerbst ~awarded 1st place~

Details | Dance Poem | |

Smoke - Dust From the Past -

Smoke (Charades)

Abaft the weather bent the time
outside the ship, around the shore
we saw its smoke in airy climb,
to fumigate from now to yore.

The fume was rising from the two
tall funnels covering its shape
with darkened soot, while dead its crew
was calling us behind its drape.

The smoke was dancing back and forth
persuading us to move and sway;
Ironic shined the star of North
reluctant breeze slid down the brae.

We thought it was the ship's horn or
three sailor ghosts that danced charades,
behind the smoke, our nightly chore
had mimicked them outside of Hades.

As smoke was covering the land,
some scattered lights that blinked and cried,
diffused away at its demand
until forgotten, sank and died.

We followed thence, the engines' chug
to dance around two skyward lines
where hung the ship's torn island flag
and our charades that drown'd in brines.

© 10-14-2013, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Tetrameter)

This poem was first posted in the past under the title "Smoke (Charades)".

Details | Dance Poem | |

STILL WINTER

Dead Winter Stray~ By: Poet Destroyer

Nearby paces, Combatants lost under the cemetery walls,
“Blessed Men and Heavenly Remedy Women of Ages,”
Feelings of dance at the beginning of nightfall,
Scenery of fire, sadness passing this history page,
In that distant curve, somewhere nears the sundown stream.
Far away from the vision of mortal eyes,
A child plays as beautiful and pale like the sunrise.
She plays on the coast this beautiful but pale, sun raised child.
Pursuing nature, in a hushed angelic lucidity,
“In hushed angelic lucidity!”
Fragile fastened, to those adequate bones.
Profound deepness beneath the snow winder dust,
Below the memoirs of her floating vessel,
Reminisces of water drowning down rivers and streams,
A shattered female kneels in salvation.
An anvil so heavy it troubles the mind.
Lost in profoundness, in what might have been.
What was, for a moment in this period?
The grimness of her weak vessel dwells.
A lifeless winter strays around. 
An album so old and dusty,
A christening gown not ever embraced.
Infinite, the woman and pale child of sunrise,
Soften footfalls beating out the torments.
Countless nights seeing the day of unspoken headstones,
Feelings of dance will never rest this heartache.
Eternity, in a dance of unconditional need,
Their hearts unite as one...
A closing of mother and child…     
~BY: PD~

Dead Winter~ By: Catie Lindsey 

There walks Warriors in that graveyard,
Holy Men and Medicine Women of ages;
at night you can see their Spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner, up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snow drifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her body afloat
down rivers and streams of Remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight on a burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was, for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers,
in a dead winter of the unborn,
on page forty-nine in the family album,
in a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance,the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance, The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one...
the woman and the child.
~By: Catie Lindsey~

(for Catie's: Re-write contest..) 


Details | Dance Poem | |

If We Could Dance

Strumming my heartstrings Drawing me in with each note Playing the most beautiful song Hearing the words you wrote Filling in all the gaps The melody is for me Beating loud and clear Setting my heart free Only distance keeping us at bay You still have me in your trance Two hearts apart, beating as one How I wish we could dance A soft kiss upon your delicate hand Holding you close, holding you tight Slow dancing under the moonlit skies The perfect girl, the perfect night

Details | Dance Poem | |

Dragonflies Dancing

Sunlight sparkles on the shimmering pond
Its mirror like surface smooth as silk
Dragonflies dance across the water 
Performing aerial acrobatics like a circus in the air
Water dipping on a fairground ferris wheel 
Then plunging dramatically like a helicopter in freefall
Rising and falling skimming the water so gracefully
Transparent gossamar wings flapping in flight
Shimmering like a sapphire in the early morning sun
Dazzling me with your infinite beauty
Some summer days I wish I had wings
Seeing dragonflies’ dancing makes my heart sing

15th May 2014

Awarded 1st place in contest run by Judy Konos

Details | Dance Poem | |

In This Elegant World

Waltzing, I’m waltzing around and around with a one-two-three, one-two-three, to the sweet sound of the orchestra playing. I’m one lucky girl, for I’m with someone special who knows how to twirl me so masterfully, and the ladies so fair wearing gowns and with ribbons tied up in their hair move among us like swans, each a belle of this ball. Now we glide past the lights that adorn a long wall, and I hold up my skirt from the smooth shiny floor as I smile up with joy at the face I adore. For this gent, my pure love I am waiting to give. In this elegant world, it’s romance that we live! With a one-two-three, one-two-three, always I’ll be in the arms of this beautiful man leading me. For Ballroom Delights Contest

Details | Dance Poem | |

I AM AN 8



A gypsy dance enthralls the stars into a twirl of rustling hems as women tap bare feet, guitars lift twiddling notes of lore’s anthems along a woodland’s lively fest, where beaded hair glides in thrilled zest to charm night’s hours...to romp away till wagon drifts when morning strays. My destiny number is 7, though I chose my path number 8--- jan 8 rispetto form in 8 lines ------------ Andrea Dietrich's Tell Me Your Number Contest

Details | Dance Poem | |

Zuzuni on the badlands

Zuzuni on the badlands

Montana's muddy badlands spread for thirty seven miles
along a cleft of sandstone bed, eroded years before; 
the chestnut paced upon the bare of grass and well worn aisles
and I wore two new Navy Colts, of gauging forty four
beneath the noon light that defines but also eyes beguiles.

An anchorite, some years ago, upon the ridge of Grapes
where monasteries in the clouds are reaching out to God, 
I learned to draw and shoot amidst the fog's white waving drapes
and prayed til the time was ripe t' abandon this abode, 
cause solitude was molding deeds, constringing, thus, escapes.

I saw them waiting on the trail; three bandits stood apart: 
Coyote Chit, Cheesecake Labif and Mambo-Jumbo Crock
with cross-tied low their pistols stood, assumptive and upstart
bemocking fools who patented their e'er noetic block
that teachers, tho', could not explain; not even wise Descartes! 

My shots intended at their guns, the hoisted hammers broke;
I ordered them to start the dance that turns the clouds to rain
the land was in compelling need, as turf and plants evoked
the sympathy of Heavens that magnanimous ordained
the good ol' boys (and volunteers) to dance the rain's refrain.

Coyote was allowed to dance a prominent gavotte
meanwhile Labif's romantic soul preferred a marigold
but Crock's mazurka had untied the nimbus' Gordian knot
and rain began to pour upon those who the skies extolled
heroic men were meant to be, defining, thus, a blot.

Zuzuni, the Algonquin chief, had noticed this ordeal
and marveled at the outlaws forms, that caused the skies to rain
in order so, to buy the fools he offered a good deal
fourteen strong horses for each man, who danced to ascertain
that rains returned upon the slopes and also on the plains.

© 2014-10-15, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic heptameter)

Contest Name: Sketch a Character
Sponsor: Gautami Phookan
Deadline: 11/17/2014


Details | Dance Poem | |

Buttercups and laughter

She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.

A dreamer,
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.

A moth, 
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.

A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion! 
She awaits one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame

Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.

Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow.
Happiness runs to her open arms.

Together they skip, to her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine resides in her eyes!

For Catie Lindsey's contest. 
I hope she sees beyond her shadows to her field of buttercups.

Details | Dance Poem | |

A Marriage of Seasons

November’s sitting at her loom.
For gown of lace, a wrap she weaves,
And when she meets her dauntless groom,
They’ll dance among the fallen leaves.

For gown of lace, a wrap she weaves.
Her groom shall wear a silver suit.
They’ll dance among the fallen leaves,
Their special song, a lone owl’s hoot.

Her groom shall wear a silver suit.
She’ll don the woven pearl-gray shawl.
Their special song, a lone owl’s hoot,
They’ll waltz at Autumn’s farewell ball.

She’ll don the woven pearl-gray shawl,
And when she meets her dauntless groom,
They’ll waltz at Autumn’s farewell ball.
November’s sitting at her loom.

By Andrea Dietrich

For SandyIvy's Good Enough Poetry Contest

Details | Dance Poem | |

Worcester Rooster


Out on the faraway of Spring,
the wraiths tap-dance atop the fields,
their laughter rises when they wield,
and beam to innocent their swing.

Our donkey left the barn last night,
pursuing thus, a gracious mare;
a whir became on stardom glare,
enchanting all jennets in sight!

The chickens started to escape,
because of a bewitching coq,
(with sauce of Worcester, cooked in wok),
- his spook got drunk on Concord grape.

Our precious cow (miss World was called) ,
wore ten inch spikes with a short dress,
and jumping up the barn egress'd,
absorbed by night for e'er un-stalled.

Two versing hogs, were cuckoo-spelled,
and oinking Shakespeare's sixth sonnet,
spiraled afar; a gifted duet
on website poetry excelled.

This Pandemonium's trick song,
our grandma sang while her broom climbed,
with a 'ye haw' she left and rhymed,
new magic flying to Hong Kong.

Nigh this Catastrophe's attacks,
the neighbor's daughter dressed like ghost,
to whistling granted her riposte,
- and much was kissed, on dry hay stacks.

© G. V., 11-19-2013, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Worcester: is pronounced "Woo'ster"

Details | Dance Poem | |

To Dance With Mary Jane

I never got to dance with Mary Jane
although I heard she sure knows how to swing!
She has a twin, and he is masculine;
he doesn’t have his sister’s magic powers,
her mystic way of calming people down
or bringing sweet relief for those in pain.
His tall and sturdy body has been used
for textiles, ropes, and oil.  There’s so much more
that he could give us if we only would
allow the cultivation of his skills.
We might renew our plastics and we could
preserve our forests, for he is so good
when he replaces wood. Why is he shunned?

It’s simply for his ties with Mary Jane!
But why has she been banned across the globe?
She has abilities. Not psycho-active,
she helps the sick. Those undergoing chemo
can find relief with her; she’s antiemetic.
She’s anti many things that bring us woe.
Convulsions, inflammation, cancer and
depression are not all she fights against.
An anti-oxidant, she can relieve
disorders plaguing many on this earth.

They say she is the gateway to bad things,
yet she is safer than our cigarettes
that kill so many folks. I’ve never heard
that Mary Jane directly caused a death!
We let our people drink. Behind the wheel,
they drive and kill, yet those who take a drive
with Mary Jane are said to take things slow!
Of course she is misused by high school kids,
who should not dance with Mary Jane until
their brains are fully formed. Yes, she might cause
a temporary loss of memory,
but dancing with her should not be a crime.
We ought to focus on REAL criminals.
To lock her lovers up? A travesty!

Successful people cry for liberty
of Mary Jane. They’re smart and talented.
Jon Stewart, Andrew Sullivan, Phil Jackson,
and Angelie Jolie, to name a few.
Rush Limbaugh even needed Mary Jane
To get through all his shows (I threw that in
To show Republicans have loved her too,
Like Sarah Palin and George W!)
Ted Turner in his office dances with
sweet Mary Jane, and Michael Bloomberg is
quite proud to partner with her in a dance.
George Clooney is her advocate. He rocks!
And Morgan Freeman says he never will
give up “the ganja.” Neither will one guy
who danced with her since he was in his youth.
This guy, named Paul, has got by very well
with help from Mary Jane, his little friend!
Another famous man says Mary Jane
had helped him stay a human when in ‘Nam.
Maya Angelou danced “with abandon”
with her! Bill Gates, Rick Steve. . .the list goes on.

Who better to declare that she is safe
than Johnny Depp, who says that alcohol
is far more dangerous.  I must agree
with Aniston, who said of Mary Jane:
“All things in moderation.” Anything
can be abused. The very food we eat
leads to obesity when it’s misused.
I’ve never had the pleasure of a dance
with Mary Jane, but I’ll be first in line
when she is legal. I’ll conclude with this:
Dear Martha Stewart, I heard you could bake
one mean green brownie. Where can I get one?


for the "Global Poetry" Poetry Contest of Debbie Guzzi












Details | Dance Poem | |

My First Ball

As I walk through the doors of the hall,
I am swept off my feet by such flare.
When I think that tonight’s my first ball,
How I blush thinking thoughts I don’t dare.

Lovely music pours out of the room,
And my hips sway beneath my pink gown.
Mom’s eyes seek a potential bridegroom
Dad’s eyes stop, my swaying with a frown.

Ushered in the big room my eyes dance
As they rush over grandeur so bright
Chandeliers they brought over from France 
Fill the room bringing splendour and light

On the sidelines I can’t help but stare 
Pretty walls lined with roses and vines
Sweetest scents of Guerlains fills the air
As the ladies and gents sip their wines.

Fine madam’s gowns blend in with the walls
And the heavenly ceiling divine 
Pastel angels and blue waterfalls 
Someone begs me to dance just in time.

As we twirl on the dance floor I’m charmed
Looking into his eyes, I turn red
And I’m weak in this young man’s strong arms
Looking up angels spin round my head.

All too soon my first ball has to end
Sweetest dreams I shall cherish tonight
When I think of my newly found friend 
Just the thought of him brings such delight


Anapest Trimeter

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.27.2014
Sponsor Isaiah Zerbst
Contest: Ballroom Delights 
1st place

Details | Dance Poem | |

A Debutante's Ball To Remember

A Debutante’s Ball to Remember
In the autumn of my life, oft have I recalled that superb summer night, When I finally experienced my long-awaited heart’s delight. Family and close friends were all ready for my entry into society, To celebrate it with a grand debutante’s ball filled with gaiety.
In a dreamlike state, I felt like a princess with a golden crown, Making my grand entrance wearing a champagne chiffon gown. With matching gloves, and a pair of satin shoes on my tiny feet, My auburn hair was adorned with butterflies and posies sweet.
The ballroom was magically transformed with gas lights all aglow, And a glittering chandelier reflected on a highly polished mahogany floor. As the orchestra played, my body and soul were enraptured and consumed By its rendition of Ravel’s enthralling “La Valse” which pervaded the room.
Elegant ladies were all dressed to the nines in exquisite pastel gowns Of winter white, baby blue, powder pink, pale peach and beautiful browns. In tacit competition to out-best each other, social charms were well-honed, As they daintily fanned themselves and gossiped animatedly in hushed tones.
Refined gentlemen in their finely-tailored tails navigated the room to mingle, Keeping an eye out for eligible heiresses beautiful, graceful, and single. Wafts of mild masculine colognes came from discretely dabbed faces and hair; While the fresh feminine floral scent of French perfumes permeated the air.
Armed with a full dance card, I waltzed the night away with ardent admirers, Curtsying and coquettishly smiling, moving on to more exciting suitors. My enchanting evening climaxed with Strauss’s “Vienna Waltz” filling the hall. Oh, what a tale I will have to tell as my granddaughter prepares for her first ball!
11-21-2014

Details | Dance Poem | |

We Danced Through Life


We danced amongst the stars that night
when joy had fallen far from sight 

We danced under the sun so bright
And when all seemed lost, we held on tight

We danced to the music of hummingbirds
And we danced in the silence when there were no words.

We danced in the shadows of fear and doubt
And we danced when we questioned what life’s about

We danced amongst the evergreens
That posed for painters winter scenes.

We danced in the winters bitter chill
And when we danced our world stood still.

For that’s what love was meant to be
To find the dance when we cannot see.

To write a new song when the music stops
With lyrics that caress every tear that drops.

For when the rhythm changes and tempo slowed
We’re called to dance with the seeds we sowed.

For life is hard, there is no doubt
But Dancing through it, is what life’s about.


Details | Dance Poem | |

Laughing Moon


Laughing Moon

Our seaward route defines the night's mistrust,
recites untruths, upon the waters' wakes,
the brines transmit inside the breeze my past,
with demons transferring my last mistakes.

They are my ocean pals! From dark sea depths
they jump and dance inducted like buffoons,
and holding violins or brass trumpets,
they gallivant around with looney tunes.

Meanwhile the stars, elusive, send their spark,
my pals embark on boats with wooden laughs,
discerning critics of our ghostly barque,
where waxen maids regale on moon's behalf.

Some lovely group! Night's theater folklore,
with drunk musicians and chords distuned,
who awkward smile with swollen lips to yore,
in front of a half-hidden laughing moon.

They sing for me! Hoarse sounds, guitars' slack strings,
brass horns, vociferous trombones and lyres;
my joker pals in airy jumps they sing,
transmitting brassy, foolish laughs and tears.

And dancing they absorb my stare and thought,
with anchor amulets that neck-chains hold
away they glide, like seaport prayers besought,
upon magnificent of seas to voyage bold.

Saluting me, a dancer higher jumps
('mid pandemonium tunes - on marble delf!)
and as the  laughing chorus plays paeans,
avaunt he sails resembling myself.

© 01-03-2012, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Dance Poem | |

SWEET DANCE


                                               Dance with me
                                I have borrowed mum`s summer hat
                            Dressed up with lipstick and pearl necklace
                    The good smell....do not say it but it`s mum`s perfume
                          The high heel red shoes are mum`s and they fits
                         me almost I`m nearly four years old and a big girl
                                   I have dressed up so nice just for you
                         Dance with me dad, I`m your little princess tonight













27.03.2012
A-L Andresen

Details | Dance Poem | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found


Details | Dance Poem | |

What Is This Dance?

What is this dance we do?
First you spin me, twirling with delight
Captivated by your attentive gaze
Then you turn your back as I move toward you

So many times we’ve been on this floor
One step forward, two steps back
Movements that confuse a bewildered heart
Often I feel I’m dancing alone

Dancing in the dark
Waiting for a spark

Our bodies once swayed rhythmically
Now we seem to be out of sync
Is our music about to end?
Have you no emotions to share?

Foolish girl, keeps dancing to reach you
Each time I draw near, you back away
And still it seems you want me to stay
For an eternity drawn to a love unrequited

Dancing in the dark
Waiting for a spark 

My dancing shoes I place on a shelf
Along with my dreams, pieces of myself
Perplexed by your desire to continue
Pirouetting toward the unknown

You have always led, as I have followed
Hoping to restore spirits that once soared
Like gazelles across an uneven floor
Leaping, ever leaping toward nothingness

Dancing in the dark
Waiting for a spark
Leaving faded marks
On a dance floor stark 

Details | Dance Poem | |

THE LONELINESS OF A LOST CLOUD

God named me a straying cloud,
and by His perpetual wish I abide...
as the loneliest cloud floating on the earth's breeze.
I glance below and discover the yellow daffodils pride, 
and fluttering they dance beneath the apple trees;
and as a sparrow I feel the bond. 


My night visitation is more exciting than broad daylight,
I encounter many stars and make them my friends,
and they love shining on the Milky Way...
looking down on the lonely bay so bright;
and tossing their luminous heads, they brightly dance:
so happy they have come my way!


Even the ocean's waves join them in their play,
but their dance is better than theirs,
and at such wondrous sight I make verse...
being offered their warm company;
I am amazed by how they roll and still gazing away,
I do admire the spectacle that gladdens me.


So often, on my couch I gladly lie to rest,
but overwhelmed by empty or moody thoughts,
that splendid image flashes in the glow of the sunset;
my daffodils still wave and invite me to dance,
and I dance with them, making a happy sound...
not to feel the loneliness of a lost cloud. 


Entered in Brian Strand's Adaption poetry contest
This is an adaption of Williams Wordsworth's poem,
"I wandered lonely as a cloud"

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Dance Poem | |

Winter's Song

Autumn dripping leaves of weary gold
Exits quietly, fading through the trees.
Hawthorn shakes her cloak of ruby fire.
Naked to the woods and twisting breeze.
 
Winter’s breath now lingers in the air.
Strands of whispered frost on silver lace.
Deep within the green a distant voice.
Calls the breeze to dance with chilling grace.
 
Winter’s tune plays keenly on the wind.
Snowflakes dance and play her melody.
Wrapped in fur she drapes the scene in white.
Nature shrouded, steeped in mystery.
 
Winter’s touch threads spider’s webs with gems.
Diamond drops of cold reflected glass.
Water turns to stone with breathless ease.
Frozen daggers arm each blade of grass.
 
Winter’s kiss enchants the wood to sleep.
Holly smiles and stains her berries bright.
Mistletoe wound tight on blackened bough.
Strands of pearl reflecting ghostly light.
 
Winter’s song plays on throughout the night.
Nature’s secrets slumber in the earth.
Spring will wake them with the sun’s return
Thaw the ground and call them to rebirth.
 

Details | Dance Poem | |

Diamonds On The Dance Floor

Diamonds on the dance floor
Glittering rainbows beneath our feet
Let's let loose, show them more
Two hearts, one song, extreme heat.

The saxaphone plays honey sweet
Feel the music vibrate deep inside
Slow, steady determined feet
Upon the waxed floor a romantic slide

Spectacular without jealousy
The rhythm between perfection
The way you dance with me
Deep rooted this proud affection.

Diamonds on the dance floor
Glittering rainbows beneath our feet
You come close, I want more.
The fire is sparking, warm up in this heat.

All eyes on every step we take
Every word we write upon the world
Unbelievable music we make
I gleam of hope to be that girl.

A perfect night of steps, every footfall in place.
Feeling complete in your harmony, trusting embrace.
I know what I am dancing for
I am your diamond on the dance floor

~07-31-2014~


Details | Dance Poem | |

Tanka 2 Life Dance



                                                   a man bent with age
opens trunk, heaves  . . .  wheelchair lifts  --- plop


                                                                 a love dance begins


frail arms link, lift, hug, swirl, down
                                      dosey doe  - death do us part







David Meade
November 7, 2014
Live Generously

Details | Dance Poem | |

My Muse, I So Abuse

My Muse, I So Abuse

My muse crying loudly, please write this way
I replied laughing, that will be the day
She storms off in a most indignant huff
I shouting at her, damn isn't that tough?

No fear, she always runs as she returns 
she my heart so loves, as my mind she burns
I, that often sit on cold bed of stones
She, poetic judge that often breaks bones!

Dead of night she cuddles up to me near
utters words, sweet nothings and a cold fear
I inquire, but my heart you love so dear
She shouts, that was a folly from last year!

My muse and I play wicked cat and mouse
She may be the roof but I am the House!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-26- 2014

note: My muse is a vindictive little tramp
she makes me kneel humbly before she lights the lamp!

Details | Dance Poem | |

Love Gently Rocked

We sit, relaxed, at closing of the day,
you turn, a record on to softly play,
then place, fresh logs making our fire enhance,
and gently bow asking me for this dance.

The song, we’ve loved since we were very young,
so often danced with, and so often sung.
You sing, so sweetly in my longing ear,
and with, strong arms drawing me oh so near.

I place, my head upon your shoulder,
you spin, us around our humble room,
we laugh, just as when we were younger,
you stop, to kiss me; then we resume.

Such special times like this I feel my heart,
could never last if we should ever part.
Then shed, a tear by thoughts of losing you,
cause you’re, my one and only love so true.

Music stops; we stay together,
in loves embrace, we melt as one.
With fireplace, still gently burning,
our fire has only, just begun.



Per line:
Verses one two and four have ten syllables 
verse three has nine syllables 
Verse five has eight syllables 

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
12.12.2014
Contest: Rock me Rhythm Poems
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper