BLACK BUTTERFLY

 POETRY, PROSE AND PAINTINGS

                     At the dance

     It took me hours just to decide to go.

     I have no date and nothing new to wear

     but go I must, I've told my self I will

     and maybe, if I'm lucky, you'll be there.

     My sister said that black would suit me better

     but I chose white, in spite of what she said

     I'm not, don't want to be sophisticated

     I won't pretend, just be myself instead.

     My courage ebbs and flows as I get closer

     and at the door it all but disappears.

     The lights are much too bright, I look quite ghostly

     the "music's" much too loud, it hurts my ears.

     If I could change my mind or maybe vanish

     or better still not have started out at all

     but breezing in they go and take me with them

     a white wall flower at the Summer ball.

     Beneath the flashing lights I stand alone

     and watch the others' grotesque, modern dance

     in low cut dresses, suits that do not suit them.

     they bounce and wiggle, gyrate, bend and prance.

     I'm all but gone when I finally see you

     standing on your own quite near the door.

     And seeing you my heart starts beating faster

     I make my towards you across the floor.

     I push aside the beery invitations

     the scrubbed clean hands that paw and press and pray

     in a silly dream I make my way towards you

     and smile because you do not turn away

     And Oh I want your hands to just caress me

     to run your fingers softly through my hair

     to take my hand in yours, then softly kiss it

     but you smile and say you're pleased to see me there.

     And when the music softens, grows more mellow

     you lead me out to dance so close to you.

     No cares for what the others think or say,

     we dance so close together just we two.

      Now I wonder if I'm only dreaming

      If this is wishful thinking on my part

      if any minute now my eyes will open

      and then the stupid, lonely tears will start.

      If this is just a dream, my mind is whispering,

      then let me dream and never let me wake

      to be alone at home with no one

      would be much more than my sad heart could take.

      Now once again the music quickens

      and you and I will not stand the pace

      we move back to the place we started.

      Smiling, you bend and kiss my face.

      It's not a dream, we walk home in the morning.

      A rose red dawn tints the cloudy sky.

      The quiet streets echo to our footsteps

      the world's last happy couple, you and I.

      At my door, you take my hand and kiss it.

      No caution that we must not be seen.

      I do not care, you do not care, this is our moment

      the sweet continuation of a dream.

      And when again in day light I see you

      with all the normal trappings of the day,

      I do not blush when deliberately you touch me

      I do not quickly pull my hand away.

      Gone is the awkward child that no one cared for,

      the silly thing too clever for her age.

      The chosen, golden girl her place has taken.

      The little bird has just unlocked her cage.