The Dancer
It was her poise and grace
that set her apart;
a gentle rhythmic walk.
Soft velvet tones of
gracefulness as she talked.
Her voice danced as she spoke.
Her eyes glistened in animated
interest as she listened,
focused, undeviating from
the intense conversation
she was involved in.
Expressive, long-fingered hands.
Gesticulating with the ebb
and flow of torrid words.
Stopping only to smooth a
straying hair back to perfection.
Interjection of soft salsa
verbal rocking, picking up
the tempo to tangoed crescendo,
waltzing in three time,
quick stepping to conversational conclusion.
As she stood to leave,
long legs unravelled, rising
to pose in balletic stance,
her bar a chair back, a smile,
a graceful backward glance....
Drifting on a cloud of chiffon
she floats away. Willowy limbs
carrying her noiselessly,
stunning her audience as heads
all crane to admire her as she leaves.
Always a dancer. Her life her stage.
Carefully choreographed.
Her earthly progress mapped
in song and dance on every page
of score and libretto....
Disciplined.
Majestic movement from head
to tiny tapped toe.
Always a dancer.
Applaud her as she goes.
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