Dancing On Tip-Toes Dancing on my tip-toes, wearing ballet slippers, arms entwined ‘round your neck, my head on your shoulder, could my love be bolder? Love to feel the rhythm of music on my soles. Love to lean in, hold you, hear your vapid heart beat. Love, dancing, both are sweet. Dancing’s kin to flying as in your arm I soar. I feel the rise and fall of breath and love you more … those mem’ries play ev’ermore. Meant to be together … treasured, cherished … felt loved. We didn’t need music though it surged from above. Savored it! Fantastic! Dancing in my heart … still. Love you, Dear. Always will! 12/31/14 My favorite dancing partner was my beloved son, Gregory Douglas Turner, Aug. 8, 1969-Dec. 3, 1992, murdered in Xenia, Ohio. I taught him how to dance as a pre-teen and we continued to dance (him teaching me as he grew older) until his demise. He was 61 to my 58 so I could even dance in high heels (though I rarely did as both of my ankles tended to turn easily).
Posted on: Thu, 01 Jan 2015 20:25:48 +0000
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