Tuesday, October 16

The Dance

The night is coming,
My one big chance
Your eyes not taking
A second glance.
That pressing question
My lips won't grant,
"May I take you
Out to the dance?"

The time is rushing,
A steady advance,
While I'm still dreaming
In my mind's romance.
My fear expressing
Through trembling hands,
"May I take you
Out to the dance?"

My stomach is plunging
But my feet hold fast.
On your door I'm knocking;
Corsage with a clasp
But within I hear laughing.
I let a lie pass,
"I hope that he treats you
Well at the dance."

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I miss the butterflies of the crush. this captures them perfectly. xo