Canticle

No dance...

First dance, last dance, no dance.

Not to take a step,

Trying so hard, but yet intercepted by other loved ones.

Who don’t want me to move forward with my love,

My passion, my heart.

I see her everyday, and can never ask for a dance.

Her looks blind me with her beauty,

I’m struck by her brains, as they work,

Her hair, as soft as a spring rose,

Her welcoming appearance, her soft heart, tender voice.

Alas, this was is not meant to be.

Another man, who craves her love, her passion, her smarts.

I won’t receive my first dance, my last dance;

And am stuck with, no love, no passion, and no dance.