The Dance

They meet in the midst of the old ballroom
The moon through the windows shines
Dusty beams filter down
Illuminating the pair with pale light

Eyes linking as they join hands
With soft smiles they embrace
Exchanging a light kiss
The moonlight caressing their skin

Ghostly music floats by on moonlit beams
The strains of the old time band
Measuring out the counted beats
Of the age old waltz

They move in smooth connection
Floating along the floor
Chill air so still around them
The pale beams of moonlight undisturbed

The rustle of her silken gown and petticoats
The roughness of his woolen suit
Her soft white gloves resting lightly in his callused hand
Echoes of another time and place

He holds her close and breathes her scent
She leans her head upon his shoulder
They dance the ritual of memory around the moon lit room
Their images barely there,

She remembers his touch and sighs
A look of longing for the time
When the moon shone on reality
Knowing it never again will be

© 1998 Moonfyre