Clarity in Muddied Waters

A Messianic Journey Through Pen and Peace. Writing from the Stillness Within.

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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam’d upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment’s ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From Maytime and the cheerful dawn; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

Dance (A Poem)

When the music plays, it rushes to your head.

Round and round and round you go, your feet a blur of madness.

Your head is dizzy, and nothing can stop the thought of dancing.

The dance is a cacophony of taps, twirls, and arm flails.

All of a sudden, you stop.

Knees trembling, lip quivering, pale face, you flop to the floor, stone cold.

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