a word danced in my mind
held out its hands, 'come dance with me',
called its friend, another word,
and then another, which made three.

Before I knew it, there they were,
ten dancing words on a page,
they formed a sentence, then a rhyme,
tapping time as on a stage

a dance, a ring,
as song they sing,
with lilt and lill
and jig 'n spring

then, of a moment, all was still,
no swirl of smiling prose or thrill,
a hush that said there'd never been
the tap of words as in a scene

as in a play of imagination
of cerebral recreation
just wet ink from my quill
like numbers on a shopping bill

from automated teller machine
standing fixed as ordered marines
letters silent as a winter night
the magic gone, taken flight,

waiting, waiting, for magic breath,
to rouse them into life from death,
when, once again, as talisman,
they'll sing music as no man can.