Listen to poem:
Twisting - the Dancer Spins
Twisting the dancer spins into the mist of the night, to his very own tune
This unearthly spectra gracefully dances, only lit by the light of the moon
Softly his leather clad shoes play skillfully onto the moisten moss beneath
Night animals, stop to stare at this dancing spectre, to them he bequeath
Their little clicks of approval, seemed only to add, to the body of the tune
This unearthly spectre dances in the mist only 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 imagine him there, still dancing to his own tune
One of nature’s, own loons, who only dance’s, lit by the light of the moon
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