The Ballerina
A poem
Cloaked with anticipation
I blink into a black abyss,
On a velveteen seat of crimson
Unaware to the awaiting bliss.
The delicate notes of a harp arise
Like celestial fluttering wings,
The tune weaves itself into full melody
Like the Pied Piper's enchantment, it sings.
But then a slit of light appears
Cutting the darkness in two,
Revealing beneath, a supernatural world
Gossamer layers of green and blue.
Lichen, moss, branches tangled and contorted
Lustrous with an opalescent gleam,
The moon, a glowing pearl radiates down
Welcome to A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
A first bodily form emerges,
A girl? A nymph? A sprite?
With effervescence she bourrées out from the thicket
An apparition in diaphanous moonlight.
Though the presence I am yet to encounter
Is an experience I was not ready for,
As He steps on stage, an arrow strikes to my heart
This is Cupid’s handiwork, I am sure.
The surrounding scene evaporates into darkness
His presence drowns all else around,
An otherworldly creature in shadows
I have been hypnotised and left spellbound.
He becomes almost a silhouette
His face etched into the light,
He takes a few strides forward
Is this what they call love at first sight?
A cacophony from the orchestra ensues
And He leaps like the spark of a flare,
Muscles aligned with trained perfection
Rebelling gravity, hovering in the air.
He’s a synergy of contradictions
A juxtaposition under Oberon’s guise,
Sculpted Renaissance features
With soft bow lips and pale doe eyes.
Quiet confidence carried on blistered feet
Shoulders built for lifting swans,
Muscles like undulating Lakeland fells
Rippling like molten bronze.
She ciseauxs to join for the pas de deux
Their bodies wrapped and entwined,
Such effortlessly strong gentleness
Their experienced frames aligned.
He holds her with unflinching coolness
Threading their limbs as one,
She freezes en pointe in arabesque
She the rising moon, and he the sun.
He lowers her down as she chases her breath
Bathing in clapped admiration,
Then she flutters away, dissolving into the dark
He comes forward, his turn for ovation.
With visceral gratitude, he bows down in reverence
Absorbing in all our praise,
A hand to his heart, he scans over our faces
When in shock, I am fixed with his gaze.
My chest is a drum, as our eyes remain locked
Connected by an invisible thread,
Time has halted, reality seeps away
It feels as though my heart's being bled .
Applauding continues, though his glare does not cease
The stage awash with tossed roses,
But as his lips part to smile, my heart is taken from me
As with that, the curtain closes.
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