She mused:
The Blue Danube
Would, maybe,
Be the music
To their dance…
The one they
Waltz to.
Each evening.
Toe to toe.
Matching step for step.
Most days.
And then she’d step
On his toes.
As he traced
The same trajectory.
She, the rebel
In his arms.
Loving it there-
But maybe not
The dance, anymore.
The light in her eyes,
It grew distant –
Her fingers tracing
Absent patterns
On his shoulder
Her chin tucked under his.
Musing –
On the pretty, pretty
Filigree,
That Love creates.
Delicate, binding.
All the same,
A Gilded Cage.
Yet she would dance.
Even if she…
No longer sang.
6-7 April, 2017
Day#7 of #Napowrimo, 2017 – National Poetry Writing Month 2017 🙂
The Blue Danube, here 🙂 In case you want to soak in this beautiful music 🙂
A Quest on Overdrive ... :) 
April 13, 2017 at 1:45 pm
The Blue Danube Waltz’s swings
Ecstasy to the heart brings
No words enunciated
Just music appreciated
That’s why she just dances, not sings!
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April 13, 2017 at 7:43 pm
Balters, this rambler balters, and cannot hold a tune. But it is so very kind of you to say so ❤ Thank you Gul!
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April 13, 2017 at 2:27 pm
My Dad’s favorite, and he taught me to waltz to it. 🙂 Still is — mine too!
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April 13, 2017 at 7:43 pm
My dad introduced me to the Blue Danube too! 🙂 ❤
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May 3, 2017 at 4:41 pm
Music like a river did flow
as she danced with her beau
But why is she feeling so low
has their love hit a plateau?
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May 9, 2017 at 9:25 am
Has it? Sigh. 🙂
Thank you Govind!
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