This is homework for 18.06.12. We're a bit slow up here in the North. Thanks Maureen for assisting me with edits.
Dot
The Dance Goes On © Dot Church June, 2012
She’s old; she makes no fuss while those around her come and go.
It’s her last home; she waits for death, the fate she soon will know.
Her hair in curls of steel twines round a face, forlorn and pale;
there lie the lines etched deep to tell her sad and sorry tale.
Her hands are gnarled and twisted, her body wracked by pain
She sits there by the window, dreams she is a girl again.
She’d married young; just out of school, so happy, life just flew;
a couple joined eternally in life and love they grew.
Their life entwined was like a dance, a song of love so strong
and thus in quick succession many babies came along.
Alas one day the music stopped, her life became a blur
as war it struck and took her man, her love, the core of her.
She led a solitary life. Alone she raised her brood.
She baked by night, by day she farmed ensuring they had food.
The music now has started. She dances; supple again.
Her lover takes her by the hand she laughs there is no pain.
They twirl, he holds her close then let’s her go she whirls around;
she’s happy once again; her love is here, the girl is found.
No-one to care; she’s just a sad old lady on her own.
And those who pass her by can’t see beyond the aging skin and bone.
They never heard the song inside; or the girl she was still.
The love she had that lives inside to her a life to fill.
When they turn and look they see her radiant smile. She’s gone -
to dance now, her last dance with him, to their eternal song.
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