Dance with me?
A poem
A glow from across the pub showed a spark.
Not just the warm glow of the fireplace, but hair like the brim of the sun.
A voice with the lilt of London rain and a laugh-like chime caught my attention. The red-streaked beauty was a pleasant surprise.
We talked about the clever plans of Shakespeare, Keats, and Austen. We also talked about London’s cobblestone streets, rolling hills, and chasing our goals.
Her green eyes, like a Celtic fire, lit a fire in my soul. A question grew in my mouth, but I didn’t dare say it.
“Excuse me, miss.A song begins. Would you, perhaps, add elegance to these?” I finally rasped, my voice a nervous wheeze.
With a smile, a blush, and a timid nod, we were already together.
Two bodies lost in music, two souls tied in beat.
As we swayed and dipped, her fiery red hair fell down like a waterfall. Beyond it all, a muttered story.
She laughed like pearls and looked at me with eyes like dew in the morning. Every step was a poem written with grace, just her, me, and you.
As the night went on, the stars came out and the streetlight shone.
And on her steps, where it was bright, I felt a pang.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I said, hoping for a spark of hope. “Another song, another dance, another magic spark?”
The sound of a rhyme, a soft voice, and a smile: “I’d love to dance again tomorrow under the same sky.”
So I left the red-haired muse behind, a work of art, with hope in the air and fire in my heart.
While fate danced, I found a beat I loved. I hope the music plays again when the sun goes down and paints the door.
“Dance with me?” I’ll ask again, this time under the moonlight,
Two souls moving together: love, a butterfly, and a flame with red hair.
© Shuvranil Sanyal, 2024
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