The Last Dance Poem by Sandra Kavanagh Josefsson

Here you are again,
waiting to go on.
This is your last dance
and regrets are none.
This will be your last "Swan lake".
Even though you are a little sad.
You are also happy to be hanging up your shoes.
It ain't so bad.

No more pirouetting to chiming music.
No more bowing to the applause of well clapped hands.
No more long Days of practice.
No more travelling to foreign lands.

You will miss the magic of the stage.
The mystical atmosphere of every show.
For dancing gave you life and hope.
But now it is really time to go.


You circle round and dance to the music.
Each lift of your arm, each bow of your head.
The ruffling of your costume can be slightly heard.
The delicate movement of your legs
is perfectly led.

You dance with every strength you have left.
Your body is tired but not done yet.
One last turn, one last lift.
One last bow, one last set.

Verse: Sandra Kavanagh (c) .