The sky is dismal outside yet I dance
The gray day brings about a dank energy
No not sadness just illusions unfolding
The morning air is not dead but alive
You can taste and feel the rains homage
Swirling about in the shower I dance
I am wet but feel so very invigorated
Almost like when I swam in the Alaskan snow
My soul screams out in excitement and I dance
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Reviews of "I Dance"
Reviewed by Dark Knight (Reader)
Reviewed on March 7, 2008
pretty as you are I will venture to say that even at a dance you would be asked by a lot of guys for a dance-lovely poetry
Well, now! Makes me want to get up and dance a bit, myself! Love this, Theresa. It's poems like this that inspire me to write more, again! Thanks, friend!
This is so refreshing, Theresa. I always believe that the rain brings blessings when it pours. It nurtures the ricefields that feeds the farmers, and when it is time for harvest, it is also time to dance.
...gray becomes a palette in this write...where raindrops fall in vibrant circle of many colors...painting sounds of movement on the canvased snow. Your pen here...has given us much light and energy Theresa.
beautiful...
John
This is most meaningful to me, Teri, because of my experience with dancing in Alaska - Jill Crosby, my teacher there, is still teaching dance at Alaska Community College.
It was surely strange, I just posted a poem with dank in it about Grey on gray. I have not used dank in a long while.
Teresa, by any chance do you have a wild flower nature scene with butterflies in it. I need a picture or a colored sketch to use on a book front for Wild Flower Cocoon. I have to try and get my first book out, I will have to self publish it, I guess. Bless you with the Northern Lights highlights.
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
The true story of Cheryl Pierson Cuccio who made headlines in 1986 and her husband Rob Cuccio. Cheryl was abused sexually and physically and Rob died for 43 minutes on Cheryl's 43rd birthday.
Asa D Seeley, a young Afro American man, shares his struggle to leave his past behind as he reaches for his future. In his one-of-a-kind style, he searches for answers...from the visible & invisible. A Memoir in Poetical/Prose form.
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Micke
I can envision you in your exuberance, Theresa....compelling!
Wonderful photo, as always.
Gina
Be well,
Sheri
May life offer you all the joys it holds,
Jim
And Stimulates the muse
Beautifully expressed poetic thoughts
Peace Love and hugsss....Morning Star
Christine
beautiful...
John
Reindeer
Axilea
Newfie Hugs, Rose
makes you let it all out
Love & Peace be with you
William
Regis
It was surely strange, I just posted a poem with dank in it about Grey on gray. I have not used dank in a long while.
Teresa, by any chance do you have a wild flower nature scene with butterflies in it. I need a picture or a colored sketch to use on a book front for Wild Flower Cocoon. I have to try and get my first book out, I will have to self publish it, I guess. Bless you with the Northern Lights highlights.