Sometimes we take a turn with others in the dance club.
It’s fun and friendly but when it’s over - you know it.
He stepped on my foot
and I winced in pain
he’d stepped on my foot
and then he did it again
That's the danger in dancing
a slow dance - being too snug
his hands on your back
and you're pinned like a bug
I should wear combat boots
when cutting a rug
with guys I'm not sure of
I’d finally had enough
The last guy ended our dance
by adding a hug - I don’t know,
a bit extra, but I went with the flow
Why am I sweating in strange men’s arms?
Then again, what exactly is the harm?
The social oddity of public touching,
of course, is that if we weren’t dancing,
would I even stand close to them?
p.s.
If you’re looking for a Summer, French-café coded, it-girl drink to put out your fire of thirst, try a ‘Diabolo menthe,” it’s made of lemon soda plus mint syrup and obviously non-alcoholic. Pair it with a vanilla Madeleine, a petite, shell shaped pastry with a lot of charm. YUM
.
.
A song for this:
I'll Call You Mine by girl in red
August by No Vacation
The road is muddy, full of holes
a challenge when, a child, one strolls,
it would appear.
But set the toddler on that road;
might precious peace still more erode?
It could, I fear.
For like a magnet, they are drawn,
far faster than a fired neuron,
to an assault
on filthy water, rocks and dirt:
the piper calling for dessert.
Who can find fault?
----------
The Diabolo has two stanzas, 8a:8a:4b:8c:8c:4b 8d:8d:4e:8f:8f:4e.
In addition, the 4-syllable lines rhyme at syllables 2 and 4.
Enemies won't spare those brave; by
opting seppuku, chose to die
never bothered.
Seppuku was not to commit,
‘twas to perform, ought to befit
ever honoured.
Event was part of more detail
ritual done outdoor; great tale
for rest to learn.
Performed before viewer to spread
the message for future; bloodshed
by best no spurn.
~*~*~
Note:: Seppuku sometimes known as hara-kiri, which is a native Japanese form of ritual suicide by disembowelment.
It was originally reserved for Samurai.
*****************
The joys of life are few for one.
Sharing each point of view more fun!
My life, my wife.
Forty-eight years of bliss, my wish.
A special love like this a dish.
No strife, all nice!
Three kids, one of each, all three cute!
Grandparents, seven, a ball, a hoot!
Young life, fun rife!
Great grandchildren four, we want more!
Much too soon, me, seventy plus four.
My life, no strife!
*********************
#rife, #strife, #diabolo-poetre
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