I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

25 April 2010

Flamenco Dancer

Rich red
the sinuous dress
which curved round her hips
and flared
at the swirling hem.

The repetitive stamp
of her black boots,
the decisive click
of her castanets
at the ends of her raised arms,
and she swept the floor
with the watching crowd.

Sweet was the music,
sweet and deep,
and a mournful note
slipped underneath
and between and around
the rhythm, the rhythm, the rhythm.

And then she was gone
from the stage
from the town
and all the troupe with her,
but not from the brain
of the child I was.


NaPoWriMo Day 24

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