Delicately, as if my health were as fragile as dried leaves,
Isabelle danced through my room on her tippy-toes,
Silent as a churchmouse, just as she promised.
Time has been unkind to us; I aged more rapidly than she,
Ravages of a partying past caught up to me at last, while Isabelle
Alone has thrived, so beautiful, angelic even, my lovely lass.
Can I not rouse myself to love her still? To thrill her as before?
To take my darling dancing on the hardwood, to the music score?
I'll do it! Bring my finest coat and tails and Isabelle and I will go!
Oh, darling, go without me. I'm too old. My body cannot take it.
No, really, Belle. Dance, laugh, and have your fun. I can't make it.
About the Creator
Mack D. Ames
Educator & writer in Maine, USA. Real name Bill MacD, partly. Mid50s. Dry humor. Emotional. Cynical. Sinful. Forgiven. Thankful. One wife, two teen sons, one male dog. Baritone. BoSox fan. LOVE baseball, Agatha Christie, history, & Family.
Comments (1)
Brilliant work, Mack D. Ames.