Dancing Poem by Lum Chabot

Dancing in the dismal mist this wisp
Is full of crystal promises, made in crisp,
Though ripe bog air; the in scent of past witchcraft ‘ere,
Where playing children felt wear and tear on fair
Nordic skin, their innocent din
Torn asunder by dancing light’s unconscious sin,
Light death’s partner in sealing of pure souls.

It lures those in, foolish enough to linger
In marshy places where cricket singers
Encourage fireflies to follow meister’s dance,
Spectacle ensured well enough in advance;
Souls will see nothing but earth and darkness complete,
With deeper victims, to get deeper, new souls compete,
To make innocent collection whole.

Couple is spared this tragic fate,
For they are spared grave feelings of hate,
And too involved in opposite’s blue are they,
Swimming through veins their love’s graceful way…

Wisp is not offended though;
Neither are lovers in passionate pose,
Who truly survives allure, not even luring light knows.