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She Dances

She waits, and when the music
starts to play, she dances.
She moves in a very artistic way,
she dances.
The beauty just unfolds, as we sit
and behold, so very real, so very
bold, she dances.
Oil has been poured out for this,
she dances.
As if she has been filled with
spiritual bliss, she dances.
In movements that say, I was
born to dance this way, and so
this gift goes on display,
as she dances.
 
 
This truly is a special form of art,
she dances.
We know that it is really from her
heart, she dances.
So powerful so real, this dance that
we can feel, with such beauty and
appeal, she dances.
I’m blessed, every time I get to see,
she dances.
For this one means a little more to me,
she dances.
For this beauty that is shown,
is from one of my own,
and now the secrets known,
my daughter dances.
 
 
 
H. S. I.  © 2015-23.

This poem is about the joy I felt when I found out
my daughter Kelly was a dancer.

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