The rhythm pulsates as she dances through the night <br />While the castanets chatter and the fires burn bright <br />The night sky's beauty cannot even compare <br />To the silk of her skirts and the flow of her hair <br /> <br />The dancing's a frenzy, sheer madness, delight <br />The drumbeat is deafening, swirling colors a sight <br />As the smoke rises, twists and disperses <br />Her movement writhes, twirls and reverses <br /> <br />With fists clenched tightly and fire in her cheeks <br />It's the truth in the dance, the Romani she seeks <br />In men there's no trust, only lust, lies and demise <br />The dance will not fail her nor the drumbeat's reprise<br /><br />Rose Falcone<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dance-38/
