The music plays light rock and swing,
And the scattered spots spin and flicker
Across the bobbing heads. Joined hands,
Twirling skirts and tapping wingtips,
All King and Queen competition
On the gymnasium floor.
But these two have their own disco ball.
They create new constellations
Picking out the brightest ones,
Connecting the dots for their night picture.
The stars blend and mix in Moonshine,
Looking down on them both,
Swirled and smitten.
true words pressing the hert on wordpress
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such a sweet poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you =)
LikeLike
Aww… Sweet.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks =)
LikeLike