Soul Poetry

She was drapped

in a long black billowy dress,

her matching long black hair

adorned with liquid silver strands,

her body,

adorned with turquoise jewels.

Stepping out into the night,

she breathed deep,

the scents of evening's air,

of lilacs,

wafting through the breezes.

She looked up

and there he was,

awaiting her arrival.

With a nod of soft aura beams,

he began the music

which only she could hear.

Opening her arms wide,

she swayed

and twirled to his rythym,

delighting in his midnight song.

In a voice,

meant for only her ears,

he crooned elegantly,

his passionate ballad.

As the tempo picked up,

she spun,

she twisted,

she shimmied

and froliced

in carefree

and careless movements.

She became breathless

with uninhibited delight,

pulse quickening,

hair flying

in unruly waves

and her eyes

glossy-eyed with rapture.

She moved in dizzying pace,

her feet seemingly leaving

the ground below her,

and almost weightless,

she glided upon the

atmospheric currents.

All too soon,

the cadence slowed,

the melody tapered

and the refrain subsided,

leaving her

with a longing for more.

She knew

it was always fleeting,

these times of her moon-dance.

But she knew too,

that the night

would return again,


And she would dance,

once more,


his approving

and watchful gaze.

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