Dancing to the beat
of my rhythmic wooden spoon.
Fiddle playing right outside.
(spin, ladies, spin!)
Twirl my way
into my lover’s arms,
a bowl of dough in my hands.
(turn, twist, splat!)
The cleanings finished,
the chores are done,
and I’m washing my hands.
(Tap, Tap, Tap)
The music’s still inside me,
my lover’s at the door.
Who says I can’t
Dance anymore?
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4 comments:
cute poem, miss magic
nice upbeat poem for a day in chicago without a wind chill. your last post--blizzard--while not involving the snow part, is more in common with our record breaking moon-like weather for february. you are welcome to visit my blog if you'd like.
cool.
There is lovely music in this poem--- it makes me want to dance!
You have some very good work here...nice blog!
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