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Often I'll wake in my slumber,
To a melody seeping through the window.
It's sung by the stars,
They beckon me from my soft bed,
To the chill of night.
I listen, for if I were not to dance to their music,
Their art would be at a waste.
The stars are beautiful.
In the realm of dreams, we met before,
Not face to face, but soul to soul;
Upon the dance floor, we found our chore,
My hand on your back, making me whole.

Hand in hand, we moved as one,
Gliding to the rhythm of our hearts;
Bodies embraced under the moon and sun,
A dance of love that never departs.

Through the music's whispers and cries,
We waltzed through shadows deep and wide;
In each other's gaze, we found paradise,
In that moment, nowhere left to hide.

Whispers of love in the air so sweet,
Kisses exchanged under starlit sky;
A promise of new beginnings to meet,
As we embraced and let our spirits fly.

Being ourselves was all we needed to do,
For in each other's arms, we found truth;
Loving ourselves as much as we loved two,
A dance of passion set aloof.

With laughter ringing in the night air,
Passion igniting like a burning flame;
Happiness and hope beyond compare,
Kindness and joy our hearts reclaim.

In this Dance of Dreams and romance fair,
We found a love that was truly rare;
Embracing self-love without a care,
Our souls entwined without despair.
Written to my GF, dreams of her, often inspire me, from dream to quill to ink, to paper.
Zywa Feb 9
We go out and dance

swinging through the metro car --


dance into the night.
Composition "Take the A Train" (1939, Billy Strayhorn, for Duke Ellington's orchestra), performed on January 25th, 2025 in the Organpark, by Theo Loevendie (piano), Oene van Geel (viola), Yoran Vroom (drums), Jeroen Vierdag (bass) and Claron MacFadden (soprano)

Collection "org anp ARK" #75
neth jones Feb 25
is this is some kind of nocturnal dance       ?                   
              one to tune the world to whim
  it's spun around our column     
   you saturate into the night   purple and staining
unrestrained   beaming in your hostility   and  blue as wishes   i approach
rude as great depth  you supper on my motion                             
         scupper me   whilst looking as bleached  as surrender
                                                       ­     or behave
so  i charge after you  inflated  and the moonlight is revealed

moon    mewling and fully realized                                                         ­
now  for illuminated clouds   to have their bellies torn at
the earth charges with gymnastic prat        
       you go at witchcraft in a pranky manner
girling and ferning your thrift score gown      
      you drag this disco into the greeting forest
the treating darkness fills in
   like furniture addition
and the beats quicken to encourage

i tail you with athletic mammalian stride                        
whilst you whip your expressions
                       weaponized   at my pursuit

but  both of us have nature on our side
germing with merit              
every hunter    every heat            
there's teeth between those tree
and we dance    oscillate  with grins
                              and battling antics
wiving the night music
Atop the curve of a carved stone dome,
well gilded by rays of many setting suns,
Fortune pirouettes and prances all alone
while her clockwork wheels rhythmically run.

With each new tick of her timeless clock,
she spins the drivewheel another round
and dances ’round the clockwheels’ cogs
in freedom, from our cares unbound.

The spring in her step drives clock’s time,
a rhythmic dance with outstretched hands
that point to sorrows or high cloud nine
as suits her music: She won’t come to a stand.

Would that we could pass the years
like Fortune, a lady unwound by our fears.
Inspired by this photo I took of the statue of Fortuna atop Potsdam’s City Palace: https://bsky.app/profile/jackgroundhog.bsky.social/post/3lglbyrewek2e
Anais Vionet Jan 25
Outside it’s breezy and twenty degrees
in here the air feels humid and still
the floor’s elbow-to-elbow and I guarantee
dance for 40 minutes and the heat can ****

I left the dance floor
fully drenched
we drank at the bar
til our thirst was quenched

I peeled off my overshirt
but that didn’t work
I still felt flushed and sweaty
a guy motioned me to dance
but I wasn’t ready

Then someone opened the door
the icy air rushed in—I didn’t flinch
It felt like heaven—I wanted more
dance guy was back, the entitled prince

the 05611 is full of pushy guys
when they want something
they try and try and try
I pretend I can’t hear them
cause the music is bumping

Friday nights are such a release
a time for fun and controlled caprice
but it’s also a hot-point time to do-a-prendy
when you say no, divers can turn unfriendly

I’m not Julie Andrews—I’m not offended
It’s kind of a complement, I’m just not interested
If you can take a yes, then you should take a no
I could be protecting you, for all you know, (******/aids)
so chill-out playas don’t be so gung-**.
.
.
Songs for this:
Hit My Heart by BOY
Cake By The Ocean by DNCE
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 01/23/25:
Divers = numbering more than one

do-a-prendy = a quick hookup
05611 = Yale's zip code
A weak sailor was I,
When she caught my eye.
A beautiful lass,
Straight from the sea.
Fair skin,
Just like the petals of the water lily.
With blue eyes,
The color of ocean waves.

Thin figure,
Cast a shadow on the sunny summer bay.
Boy was she pretty,
The kind of girl an old fisher,
Would call his finest catch.
Sandy hair tied back,
Elegance like a species of ancient lore.

And I guess,
The water wasn't just what she was for.
For back on shore,
The boat club dance floor,
Wasn't quiet full without her.
The way she'd move,
Like a shiny fishing lure.
This is a remastered version of a summer poem I wrote a while ago. I know it's not summer yet, but I needed some summer sunshine.
As I dance in the shadows of night,
The Moon casts its soft, silver light.
A glow that brightens my darkened soul,
In the rhythm, I feel truly whole.
I release my darkness into the sky,
As music fills my ears, ready to fly.
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