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The Ballerina

A poem

By Clara ClarkePublished 2 years ago 2 min read
Runner-Up in From Across the Room Challenge
3
The Ballerina
Photo by Tyler Sakil on Unsplash

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.

love poems
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About the Creator

Clara Clarke

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