See, I DON'T have to write the hot stuff. ;>)
Dance to Morning
She dances in the light of Dawn, golden glow on her skin.
Like water in the rapids, she moves upon the wind.
Soft movements in time, to heartbeat and the music’s spin.
The sun paints her in molten gold, fire her soul’s whirlwind.
Dancer, dancer you are the moving prayer to morning again.
You draw it forth, your love, and I am envy thin-skinned.
Jealous and afraid to say I watch you, my heart unpinned.
Each day you dance, I dream you dance for me, my friend.
Oh Elegant. Lovely poem.
Lovely, John..
Thank you for the PING Ms.Feather..
Ms.B