Confessions of a Dancer
The thrill rising from inside,
When mine ears behold a song...
My feet begin to twirl and glide,
I gracefully dance and move along.
The motion that warms my spinning frame,
The beating of my pounding heart-
A desire, ever always the same,
To dance and never from it part.
Swirling, twirling, spinning, gliding,
Ignorant of weariness that takes a toll;
Songs of sadness and great tiding,
Both do capture heart and soul.
Then sadly, I cease my dance and bound,
When music and song no more resound.
Share This Poem
This Poems Story
I am twenty-three and a recent college graduate with a BA in journalism. I am in that wonderful time of life where my future will be mapped out before me according to multiple decisions made. I have a passion for words and how beautiful I can make the simplest of things with them; however, my first love was dance. I made the decision, one I regret, to not pursue dance as a profession. But that's in the past; I have chosen not to dwell on it. I wrote my poem as a last expression of the special place dance holds in my heart.