DANCE OF THE MOON
Posted: Tue Oct 02, 2012 2:21 pm
The advent of the new moon comes, the night is cold and clear
the scent of apples from the tree is crisp and has no peer
and in the meadow there I see a nymph dance in moonlight,
her hair golden and honey dipped - she pirouettes tonight.
I watch and see her run and stretch – en pointe and entrechat.
Chassé, Chassé, and Grand Jeté – she leaps towards a star.
She twirls and twirls and twirls again – her spin cycle gone mad
the other horses watch in awe wondering what grass she had.
She truly lives up to her name my Palomino girl
Moon Dancer is the name she has – her sire Give it a Whirl.
Her mother’s name is Moonlight Pearl she likes to dance as well,
it must be in their genes I think – as best as I can tell.
Maureen Clifford © 09/12
the scent of apples from the tree is crisp and has no peer
and in the meadow there I see a nymph dance in moonlight,
her hair golden and honey dipped - she pirouettes tonight.
I watch and see her run and stretch – en pointe and entrechat.
Chassé, Chassé, and Grand Jeté – she leaps towards a star.
She twirls and twirls and twirls again – her spin cycle gone mad
the other horses watch in awe wondering what grass she had.
She truly lives up to her name my Palomino girl
Moon Dancer is the name she has – her sire Give it a Whirl.
Her mother’s name is Moonlight Pearl she likes to dance as well,
it must be in their genes I think – as best as I can tell.
Maureen Clifford © 09/12
