Twisting - the Dancer Spins
TWISTING THE DANCER SPINS
Twisting the dancer spins into the mist of the night, to his own tune
This unearthly spectre gracefully dances, lit by the light of the moon
Softly his leather-clad soles play skilfully onto the moisten moss beneath
Night animals stop to stare of this dancing spectre to them he bequeath
Their little clicks of approval seemed only to add to the body of the tune
As this unearthly spectre; dances in the mist, lit by the light of the moon
He makes his way through the trees, still dancing, as he reaches the leith
Across the wooden bridge into the mist, he disappears beyond the heath
Gazing into the mist you still imagine him there, still dancing to his own tune
He is one of nature’s own loons who only dances, lit by the light of the moon
Indiana Shaw . . . ; )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2016
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