Dancing: A Poem

Hi there! I was watching a silly film about dancing with my parents this evening, which inspired this little poem that I hope you enjoy.

I have always wanted

To learn to dance; I always thought

That if I practiced, eventually

It would feel like flying,

The floor disappearing beneath

Feet that know exactly where to go

Without

Treading on someone’s toes, held

Close, but not too tight,

Moving in time through

Dappled sunlight across a dusty wooden floor,

Swishing skirts swirling,

Maybe even lifted through the air –

And the whole image

Seemed to sparkle.

Eventually, it was left, this

Daydream,

Under a grade 2 ballet certificate and dust,

Somewhere in the back of a cupboard

Where it faded from mind, replaced

With hiking boots instead of dancing shoes,

Suit trousers instead of petticoats,

Learning, instead of dreaming,

Instead

Of flying.

Until

A silly film had me digging through

The scrapbook in the back of my mind,

To a crumpled, faded picture

On the back of a postcard,

And I thought to myself;

Why couldn’t I

Be both?


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