Dance Of Endings & Beginnings Poem by Greg Bell

What is this dance that weaves
its way amid our revelries
amid the pennants jubilant
waving in the evening breeze?

As golden lads and lasses prance
& sing & laugh & leap & cheer
in youth's abrupt exuberance
to ring the springing of the year

With nary a care nor fear
‘Tis theirs to choose
La Danse Joyeuse

What is that drone of melody
that whispers through the trees
and cuts in ancient counterpoint
our major joys in minor keys?

As queen and dashing courtier
lady, lord, burgher, barkeep
the ploughman and the warrior -
all - lay plans to sow and reap

Reapers o'er the landscape creep
and Time turns the knob
La Danse Macabre

Grand ringout now is drawing nigh
but waxing as our sun is spent
the moon doth our attention try
and we gaze on in wonderment

The sun we see is in eclipse
and yet is left penumbral haze
as moon doth mask in her ellipse
to light our way to future days

of faires to come and faires to pass
renewal of the cov'ring grass

Sceptre, learning, physic must
All follow this and come to dust*

La Danse Macabre?
La Danse Joyeuse!





Faire's End,2012
* Shakespeare's Cymbeline