David Harris

(18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

A Slow Dance


Across a crowded ballroom
she sat at an empty table
her hands resting on her chin
watching the dancers on the floor.
The band was playing a slow tune
as I moved around to her
with my hand outstretched
I asked her for a dance.

Her eyes sparked at my words
and a smile crept across her face.
She held her hand out
and I escorted to the floor.
With wings on our heels
we danced the night away
and the band kept playing
all the slow tunes.

Stars fell across the floor
from the ballroom’s glass ball
as we looked into each other’s eyes
oblivious to one and all.
We danced and we danced
getting closer with each step
as the band kept playing
yet another slow tune.

Years have flown by
and we’re still together.
Each night we slip off our shoes
put a slow tune on
to play again and again.
We once again dance a slow dance
long passed the midnight hour
as we’ll dance for the rest of our lives.

4 February 2014

Submitted: Wednesday, February 05, 2014

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  • Geetha Jayakumar (2/5/2014 9:35:00 AM)

    Wow a Beautiful poem. I could visualise it very beautifully, each steps being played with music. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

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