Her dancing shoes lay in the closet
cold and lifeless, covered with dust.
She had grown old and one day lost it
that bound with them, that trust.
Still, on days like these
When moonlight plays
A flood begins of memories
And she recalls those days.
She is somehow transformed, taken there
to younger years and those nights
when music would kiss her face, her hair
and trace an outline in dance hall lights.
When the music starts
her feet will always move.
Oh, how she broke those hearts
swaying to that special groove
At times she puts them on her feet,
and that old magic does occur.
She feels elated that mood so sweet
and today becomes a blur.
© Copyright 2016 Mistress of Word Play. All rights reserved.
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