Dance
Dance
The pink ladies in their feathers,
whirled in sync,
again and again...
around.
The party had just begun,
and there was already,
one clown.
The orchestra was playing.
"They sure are hot tonight!"
Brass and strings, violins and things,
that make sounds some had never heard.
The drinks were flowing,
the tables were towing,
the people around the edge.
A river of song,
just play along,
you can not go wrong...
"it's the end of the year!"
we cheer.
Soon the big clock on the wall,
strikes a song of morning and glory...
(reference to a the blue flower)
solemn and real.
It may not be good,
or it may not be bad,
but it has all the various appeal.
Happy New Year,
they will call,
to all...
I pray it is a joyous dance,
a rhythm of peace,
and even romance.
Let us hold tightly to each day,
and not give them away,
for nothing.
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