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Dancing
To jitterbug and jive, perhaps to feel alive;
Dreaming that I too could dance as well as you;
Strutting to a tango in Chichicastenango
Touring a veranda edged with jacaranda.
Four eyes eagerly dancing; engagingly entrancing
Above paired swaying hips and rippling tender lips.
When the musical combo broke into a mambo
Our hearts began drumming to a secret thrumming.
We did a conch horn conga on the isle of Rarotonga
Balalaika strumming, we tried romancing as we were sabre dancing
I waltzed you like a rube along the Blue Danube
And when we danced the line, I kicked my boots up just fine.
But when I awoke, I knew my dancing was a joke;
Just a stutter stepper or a sneezer inhaling pepper.
2/24/2019
Copyright ©
David Drowley
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