Spanish Dancing

Rumbling in my mind The song of Arleen Hurtado Trying to get into a Spanish mood As I gaze at the flamingo dancer, Dressed in black flaming wide dress. Hear her castanets, clicking in rhythm To the background of classical guitars And the occasional shouts of Ole`. Yes I can see her, steel soled shoes Tapping on sturdy wood. She twirls, Her dress inflated in a sensual dance, Until she enters in a tocatta festiva. Silently she taps as she lifts her dress, Slowly revealing her beautiful legs, And down again to recommence her twirl. The audience go mad in applause. She merely bows and retires to her room. I’m there waiting for her.