| |
The Dance
Dance in the evening gardens neat
With haunting looks and naked feet
While soft moonlight falling wet
On flowers moist with summer sweat
Granite statues stand stiff and wear
A silly smile and stony stare
Above the stars twinkle silently
The wind in the trees a symphony
A child with thoughts
Girl is woman dances away.
Beryl McMullen
|
|
|
