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Jul 2016
Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
lunar beams, cast moon-glow on your face,
the breeze, caressed, your auburn hair.

We danced, to music no one else could hear,
that night, was just for us, alone;
the stars, were cast upon a cloak of black,
that night, they were like jewels that shone.

Held tight, we swayed to sounds of love,
embraced, we floated, in love's trance;
our feet and heart were whirling too,
in the throes of lover's dance.

Our love, like perfume, lingered on,
sweet and magical, we laughed aloud;
the two, of us, so all alone,
so separated from the crowd.

Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
two dreams, one love and mystery,
dancing, in the mist of love... one pair.
David Lessard
Written by
David Lessard  75/M/Prescott, Arizona
(75/M/Prescott, Arizona)   
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