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Thunder dances
across the darkened sky,
rumbling like drums
as it rolls toe to heel.
Lightening flashes
with disco flares
making the coming storm
frightening and unreal.

I stand, face uplifted,
breathless in its approach;
gown of glittering blue
pale and torn in places.
Would a galant 
ask me to dance when my
heart is so cold and full
of such disgrace?

Give me a flower
to stick within my hair,
give me a bit of lace
to bind my broken spirit.
For I long
to enjoy life’s walz
if only one would give
me reason to not fear it.

(c) Jayne Waggoner

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