The Last Dance

The memory of that eve was still crystal clear,
Keeping him frozen in the blissful moments of his yesteryear.

He had been tight-lipped for most of the while,
Fearing his approach might be ignored by just a mere smile.

She was the purest form of innocence,
The color of her eyes impregnated with benevolence.

The more softly she blinked,
Her eyelashes kissed in distinct,

The more he peeped the more he fell,
Deep down in endless pit without any yell.

Drawing the warmth away from him, Making him cold,
Just as the last rays of the setting sun behold.

Confined in her body was a soul,
Eager to travel the world with a stroll.

Her messy, unyielding tresses,
Took away all her stresses.

But that evening it was something different,
Making him go berserk with her magnificence.

Appealingly draped in the rubicund outfit,
She looked like an angel from the paradise he did admit.

Hair coiffed elegantly above her nape,
Was the reason for his long gape.

He knew that was the moment,
To break his silence and foment,

the-last-dance

To confront his care and affection,
Since the day his eyes made the first connection.

His legs walked towards her,
But his hands gripped his wrists begging to demur.

Collecting all the positive thoughts and nerves,
He wiped the dripping sweat from his brows.

His heart was pulsing at a rapid speed,
Pounding so loud, barely able to hear his own feet.

As he closed her, he chivalrously questioned,
“Can I take you for a dance for a while?”

For the first time, his eyes met her,
Comely and captivating they were.

She concurred to dance,
His last dance, the only chance.

She spread her love with such zing,
Completely paralyzing him with her smile fling.

She was candid, heart full of generosity,
Killing away all the animosity.

He stole a moment to come closer,
Whispered in  her ears,” You look impeccable today”

She flushed, without facing his eyes,
With a crimson face, she knew his words were not hollow lies.

His thoughts were uncontrollable,
Like breeze full of scattered dandelions.

It was his last dance, his last dance,
And they spoke a thousand words within a glance.

Read about: What makes me write?

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Read about: The Dulcinea of his Dreams!

Read about: “My Life’s spun in a web, What’s yours?”

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