Party Lights, Music, and You Across the Room

This poem was written for the "Across the Room" Challenge on Vocal. The contest is to be judged by Kirun Kapur, author of "Women in the Waiting Room". Contest dates February 14, 2022 to March 16, 2022.

I was the shy and quiet one who wanted sit and observe.

To talk to you would have been a dream, but I simply hadn't the nerve.

It was enough to dress up in pink, in my dress of satin and lace.

Shoes of white patent leather, a bashful smile on my face.

You were a grade level higher, a whole year older than me...

I found a chair in the corner where I could watch quietly.

Couples swept across the floor as party lights sparkled and beamed.

The scene in the gym was magnificent, as if it had all been dreamed!

I looked across the gym floor where refreshments were being served.

There you stood by the punch bowl looking so calm and reserved.

Your eyes slowly scanned the room and stopped when they spotted me.

Frantically, I looked around to see where your focus could be.

I was alone...you were looking at me. Our eyes met...you started to smile.

The 110-foot long room now seemed like a thousand miles.

Breathless, I watched you walk up to me. I had to be in a trance.

You chuckled a little as you asked, "Would you give me this dance?".

Almost too numb to make a move, I stood and extended my hand.

You put your arm around my waist as the orchestra struck up the band.

You danced like a version of Fred Astaire, leading in 3/4 time score.

Elvis sang , "Are you Lonesome tonight?". I whispered, "Not any more".

My left arm across your shoulder, I leaned in to hold your right hand.

Adrenalin pumping wildly, I was barely able to stand.

For one serendipitous evening, a beautiful dream had come true.

Love at first sight on one special night, when I danced every dance with you!

Note: Junior High (or Middle School) years are fast-paced, emotion-filled years. So much insecurity and inner conflict as growing up happens. My own junior high school years were filled with self-doubt, bashfulness, and self-conscious faux pas moments.

That one special night happened at the end of my 8th grade school year and the perfect dance partner was in 9th grade. He went on to high school the next year, and I never saw him again.

The story told in the poem remains as a shimmering pearl of happy memory in the midst of two difficult years.