The Dance

Let me paint you a picture

pretty as can be

An intertwining tale

A beautiful love story

First there is a woman

Gentle as the breeze

With the softest, sweetest features

One could ever see

Dancing all alone

In a pure white room

Swaying spinning turning

Getting ready to bloom

Then comes a man

Strong and straight and proud

he grabs the woman by the waist

and spins her round and round

They begin to dance

Tentative at first

But soon strong and sure

The dancing begins to burst

They dance round and round

As colors paint the wall

They spin and tell their story

Dancing for one and all

The room is filled with love

With laughter, grace, and fun

They talk and sing and laugh

And they soon become one

The dance last through the day

And well into the night

with love in the air

The end is out of sight

But Every dance must end

Every pair must break apart

The woman was the first to leave

And it broke the man’s heart

Left to dance alone

Moving to and fro

Until he too left the room

And the colors began to go

The room begins to darken

The walls turn to white

But the story of the dance

Will live on true and right

Everyone has a dance

A picture or a poem

Only with true love

Can your life be woven