Waiting for her kiss

There were days that he vividly remembered
That song, the dance, it’s rhythm and scores
With his eyes closed he saw his girl swirling
Dancing graciously through their living room
And he thought, this is to me what real love is

She danced Pirouettes in her pink ballet dress
Tiptoeing as she was floating on dancing shoes
But forgotten that he had lost her years ago
He played the old Steinway in a nursing home
Still in love with her and waiting for her kiss

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AuthorHandsome Poet

Author. Writer of poems. Follows Jesus. Loves England with nowt taken out but lives in NL. Model railway fan. Driven mostly by ADHD. Eccentric.

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