Exotic Jazz ballerinas I Sweetly Love You
For many of your Abundant gifts
and talents

Not just for your Ethereal
and Casual beauty, but also for your
Exotic And luminous grace,
That may be the first exquisite qualities
That comes like a Waterfall pirouette
To Ones mind when it comes
to the Sweet beauties of Exotic ballerinas

Exotic ballerinas how much I Love thee
Let my Love sigh the ways

Sigh number one (Uno)
(I always loved that game especially
When you draw a Wild card)

Awwww, Your beauty is naturally wild
As much as it is graceful and serene
Like the Evening lakes just after the Sunsets lavendar caress,
Its great to be able to Unwind
Around the enchanted circumference
Of the Evening lakes, the waves waltz
Svelte and limber like you do
And on a scale of 1 to 10 I'm 10x times
More clumsy than an Exotic ballerina,

So that would probably be sigh number 2,
Hey just thought of a number two pencil
For some reason, yeah your elegance
Thats sigh dos
Aww, Ah,
how many pencils would
It take to accentuate
your Supreme elegance,
probably way too much
All the gorgeous maple lake trees
Would be lumber
for the campfire bonfires

That Springs to ones mind,
Awww Sigh three (tres) your
Passion for the art of your dance
Is very innately romantic
Like the wistful wicks
of valentine candles,
your unique Silhouettes
from your tutus and leotards
Are like the dance of lovers candles

Sigh number four Awww, Awww, awww,
Awwww,
You dont wear sandles
but rather
Sweetly sport the flats
when you
Get into your Chopin cascades
of sweet
Loving transcendent
and sublime rhythms
that is Amazing
In itself
you hurt your sweet delicate pretty feet for the pure love of your art,
You sway naturally like Summer roses with alot of heart and Love,
And I have alot of Love for you
For that there alone, Its Sweet sweet jazz

Sigh number five
Awww, awww, awww, awww, ah,
the way your crescent hips
Dips And dives like sultry doves
and mellow swans
and keeps the Passion alive
Thats not easy to do
But you make it look so effortless

Sigh number six
AWWWWWW, the way the honey
Of your hair licks the breeze of romance,
Love, and ones vivid imagination
And inspires fascination,
Like the rainbows of irises along
The Heavenly lakeshores
Are you blushing now Exotic ballerina
I do not just love you naturally
As your very swayyyy I simply adore thee
If you are you blush
sweeter than rose gardens

Sigh number Seven
Awww, awww, Awww, awww, Awww,
Awww, awww
You are not only sweetly beautiful
You always have the most exquisite
names like penelope, bridgitte,
audrey, salma, daphne,
And the Holy mother,
No wonder so many great painters
and artists
like degas, matisse, and picasso
dedicated their craft
and passion to accentuate
your ever flowing beauties and charms, you are Sacred as you are down to earth as Sweet Vineyards
And Exquisite
with The Moonlight and Rain
And
I Naturally and sweetly Love you

Reynaldo Casison

Jazz Ballerinas have a thing for Chopin,
Nocturnes that Cascade with Sweet grace,

Like Painters and Poets have a thing
For Exotic Ballerinas with A Roses Sway
And Loves Blushing face

Somewhere
Moonlight is A Sonata

Reynaldo Casison

glimmers of bright lambent light
flitted over the vast lake
they were like ballerinas
imitating swans

my fingers have become bored with
the quicksand of routine
they prefer to dance erotically over my typewriter
frolicking like naked ballerinas
over an ancient stage
spilling their secret thoughts
onto blank page,
after their day job
threaded together
over my lap,
or bending over to
reveal the contents
of my burlap sack

they have taken instead
to jumping over cracks
in the nothing of night
stifling the sound of silence
with assortments of clicks and clacks
punching in the perfect pitch of keys
to leave Beethoven blind
from this symphony of notes combined

and just like that at last
they have unfolded some rhyme
unachievable with ink and pencil,
without the stencil of time
dictating to work inside the lines

Rilled
as
  a Rose,
      Petals Painted                                                          ­    
            with Radio-waves                                        Billowing     ­       
                               amongst                   Bouquet of          Ballerinas,
                                         ­    a   Blossoming                                    Trailing
                                                                ­                                          New
                   ­                                                          stars                  Born
                                     ­                                and           Blushing
                                                             Foaming
                                                         ­           at their
                                                           ­                Skirts
                                                                ­              like
      wrapped                                                   ­ the      
up              like home,             Surf of the Sea
in her                    Doesn't it feel
     spiraling                                                        ­  Scented with
                arms?                                       of her sleeves,          warm
                     Sewn into       cotton fibers                                       cosmic
                                       the                                                              ­    latte?
                                                      ­                              uni-                         Oh,
                                                                ­          entire      verse             before
                                                          ­               our                                   we
                                                                ­                was                  grew  
                     ­                                                                 ­  She  // taller

I'm not from here,
I was never from here.

It's time to return home.

Looking at the walls,
A group of ballerinas,
Dancing until the world ends.
Their feet in perfect form
And their open hands.
Why do they not dance for me?

The world is dancing,
The people are singing,
But I feel as though my life is ending.

Tonight,
Feeling a little poor,
I'm like an animal
With my head hanging out the windows.

It's time to return home.

This is my final song,
My final song,
Profound thoughts
And dancing...

...until the world ends.