Dancing.

 

I never have taken her dancing,

Though the music is sensual sweet,

I never have taken her dancing,

Though we move to a mystical beat.

 

It’s like holding hands in the moonlight,

On a beach where the sand shimmers gold,

When you know there is nothing tomorrow,

And you’re sure you will never grow old.

 

There’s a softer caress than the kissing,

There’s a passion that holds you within,

There is life to surround and enfold you,

There is subtlety yearning to win.

 

When the melody masks all the meaning,

And we mingle like stars in the night,

We will touch like the song of creation,

And be born to a world of delight.

 

Like Pan in the fields of the ageless,

Where his children were many and few,

I am loved with great glory abandon,

And am father to all that is true.

 

For the satyrs and nymphs once emboldened,

Are like waves that crash bright on the shore,

And the song that I hear they are singing,

Is bidding me dance evermore.

 

There will be no more time for the dancing,

When the fire in our hearts turns to chill,

There will be no more time for the dancing,

When the music of time fails to thrill.

 

When the wind blows the sand on seashore,

Into dunes that young lovers can’t climb,

And the shadows encompass the moonlight,

And the tawdry supplants the sublime.

 

So I claw at the stars in the heaven,

As they dance in eternities round,

And the music that echoes around me,

Is the revel of hominid sound.

 

For the softer caress still supports me,

As we move to the mystical beat,

And I know in some way we are dancing,

With the whole of the world at our feet.

 

I never have taken her dancing,

Though we turn and we whirl and we spin,

And the music goes on never ending,

While we wait for the ball to begin.