DO YOU COME HERE OFTEN?

Those Palais dancers never had to bother if they were good at talking
or not because there was only one question anyone asked when they got
on the dance floor and that was the title of this poem!  Followed briskly
by ‘Where have you come from?’

DO YOU COME HERE OFTEN?

Dancing was never better
Than when they danced together.

She stood on his toes,
He trod on her heels.
Sent her twirling around
Then forgot to catch her,
So that she whirled across that floor
All on her own,
Bumping into other dancers
Like a car out of control.

When she found him again,
He was thinking of leaving.
Thinking maybe they should
Have gone for a walk.
Seen a really good film,
Perhaps gone for a drink,
Done anything, rather than dancing.

But then it was the last waltz
And he held her tight,
Her head on his shoulder,
His lips close to hers,
Their kiss tasting sweet and wild.

Very, very slowly smooching
Around that suddenly lovely floor.
Loving the dance,
Loving each other.

Glad they had chosen to come dancing.

                ©2023 Gwen Grant