Ballroom

March on.

Step,
A step,
And a step.

A group in pose
Awaiting
The first Note.

Keep time for me.

Beat,
A beat,
And a beat.

Lose me in
The Music
Take me there.

Opponents watching.

Look,
A look,
And a look.

Duplicity rife
Tell me more
Tell me Lies.

Move me

Feel,
A feeling,
And a feeling.

Swell music
Taper
Rest in stasis.

March off.

Competitive Dance

Dances
And Dancers
Take to the floor.

Dancing
And Prancing
A few beats more.

Formal
Gaudy Attire
Quick change and change.

First
Second Place
Dancers engage.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

This I wrote at a competition a few weeks ago. I seem to enjoy writing about sport...

The Seat

There's a seat on this train. Mid-way along the carriage it sits. Alone. The only unoccupied seat left, yet still alone. Why does no-one take this seat?

Might it be deformed, dismembered, disfigured in some way? A great long gash in it's side, innards flowing out. Deflated, dying, dust.

Might there be a foreign body perched atop it? A piece of trash, yesterday's news, a discarded piece of nothing. Devastating, isolating, intimidating.

Might it host an unmovable guest? A drink, a meal, or remnants thereof. Disgusting, disturbing, depraved.

Sit tight little seat. Have hope. Perchance next station, you'll be lonely not?

Musings@Manning (I)

Friend,
Be my friend.

Fiend,
To the end.

Soft,
Speak so now.

Friend,
Ask me how.

You,
One to hold.

Me,
I be bold.

For friend,
Be my friend.

From now,
To the end.