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The Dance Teacher

by Janet Reid
Music flows into the garden
where sweet roses and lilacs bloom,
through windows thrown open wide
from a pastel painted room.

Antique lace hangs like silk on the windows,
a fan circles silent above,
and each tune that fills the air
has been specially chosen for love.

Inside the small room, she dances
to the sounds of Chopin and Strauss
with morning sun kissing her hair,
as it slips through the trees to her house.

While the sweet scent of flowers
afloat on the breeze
lazily fingers the curtains,
she glides 'round the room with ease.

Men come and men go,
and she greets every one
with always the brightest of smiles
then they dance till the music is done.

And they say that she floats like an angel,
as if she has gossamer wings,
with her feet not touching the floor
while ever so softly she sings.

She sings of a long ago lover
who slipped through her past like the dew
with her heart in his hands
as he tearfully bade her adieu.

She dreams of his love as she waltzes
with each of the visiting men,
for she's certain some day she will dance
with him, in the garden again.

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Copyright © 2003 by Janet Reid. All rights reserved.