No dancer I
Nor you of late.
Hampered we are
By fate and past.
And yet each day
We dance this dance,
Slowly, with grace,
As though our last.
First I lift
Till you’re sitting straight.
Then I hold my hands
To brace your arm.
Balanced on me
You stand erect,
Bridge the space
To the waiting chair,
Shift your weight, turn
To my loving lead,
Sit with care,
And I kiss your face.
This is our tender
Transfer tango.
©2011 John I. Blair
Very romantic. Thanks for sharing it with us, John.
ReplyDelete(Mary E. Adair)