Solitary Forest Dance

SOLITARY FOREST DANCE
11 August 2011
As the sun sank low,
the woodnymph
danced,
swan-like,
alone, alone, alone
in a clearing
in her forest-home,
a sad, soft smile
playing on her lips.

Her music
was the twittering
of sleepy birds.
Her dance
painted the story
of her sadness in falling leaves
and joy in sprouting shoots,

her fears in dark shadows
and passions in full-throated birdsong,

her loves in forest flowers
and hates in blackening skies,

her anger in thunderbolts
and forgiveness in whispering breezes
in muted forest colours,

the softness of her ivory dress
enhancing the curves
of her body.

There was no-one
to see
so her spirit was free
to dance
the wild and gentle story
that her heart lived
and remembered,
dance,
dance,
dance till she dropped
gracefully
into sleep
under a guardian tree
to wake a dove
that took flight
heavenwards.