These Shoes Were Made For Dancing
As the music began,
he bowed before her,
fingers outstretched, palm up.
Rising to her feet,
she placed her hand
in his, feather-light.
As they danced,
her lemon-yellow shoes
spun a blur of joy
in motion.
Round and round
the floor, they whirled,
eyes locked together,
hearts beating in rhythm.
He, in town after town,
forever haunts dance halls
searching
for the girl in yellow shoes
longing
for one more dance.
cfa© 7/10/2014
revised 9/13/2014 cfa
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
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