The tango teacher
The Tango teacher danced before his monolithic size,
a red dressed figure, tripping, thrilled his attitude and thought,
for none knew better than this femme to make the apple pies
his appetite so coveted and blurry thinking sought.
She moved around his bulkiness with brio and pizzazz
convincing him to dance with her a tango por amor,
a man of gallantry who learned its steps in Alcatraz
began to twirl with elegance upon the marble floor.
The apple pies were resting on the kitchen wooden board,
so, every time he started to express his loving quotes
she stuffed his mouth with tasteful chunks, he certainly adored,
and both gyrated in the air with donkeys, pigs and goats.
So, dancing carelessly, the man betrampled on her toes
while she was holding in her teeth a crimson Spanish rose.
2015/10/01
© G. Venetopoulos All rights reserved
(sonnet, Iambic heptameter)