The Dance

She can’t help herself –

her toes beg to tap on a dance-floor of gold.

Her feet undulate and shimmer, prance and quiver,

pulses of energy on surface of steel.

She teases and entices,

twirling and swirling to the beat of

the Universe’s great heart;

she intuitively moves

to its rhythmic cadence.

Her pace quickens as the music fades into the night.

Desperate, she tries one more move,

one more spin on the dance-floor,

and then,

spent,

her eyelids fall on the evening,

and the dance

is at an end.