The Last Dance - Poem by Hazel Durham
Holding our frail bodies now, on this short, straight trail,
Between the sunset, then the darkness,
Will crawl and fall,
Blackness sweeping out our eternal light,
Creases, wrinkles, but our eyes still hold our twinkle,
The band plays it's familiar songs,
As we long to stop time, before the crime,
Of losing one another,
The twilight is our blight.
Our souls linked, winking at our amusing chatter,
Long gone, the sound of our babies feet patter,
Children blessing our lives with double joy,
Belonging and sometimes trouble,
Grown up now they have survived our mistakes,
We gifted them with a lasting contentment,
Minding them like treasures of adoring sentiments,
Our measure is we made living a pleasure.
Life deals blows, with many foes,
Lungeing from all angles,
We survive by sidestepping, the incoming tides,
With the comfort of hugs,
When they try to pull the rug,
Lamplights shining from our cosy heart, that is our home,
Holding our dreams with hope, belief in each others trust,
Even when the creaks appear, as we rust.
Our commitment is our nourishment,
In a world that at times can be hostile,
Warmth of our blazing fire, lit by enviable emotions,
Music makes our romance the eternal dance,
Moves on the ballroom floor slow but graceful,
Like swans on a ripple free lake,
Reflecting an elderly couple that never neglected
Their spirits, still so supple,
All part of a love that God must have helped,
From the heavens above.
Were warm in our embrace, arms clasping around worn bodies,
With our souls soaring with the rhythm of living,
The art we learnt, cherished, is the beauty of giving,
The last dance is the shining light to entrance,
Our still beating hearts.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about The Last Dance by Hazel Durham
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.