Dance Of The Day Poem by Anne Onymis

With delight
Fright
And some mighty strong might
She won her fight

But in her dismay
In her own special way
She seems to have lost her day

Not under her bed
or behind her head
she cried with sudden dread
'It's gone, It's gone, it didn't even leave a thread! '

She searched high and low
concentratedly slow
and lower low, belower below
She saw her day go

But as she cried
With a dissatisfied sigh
She looked up higher high,
Flyer fly,
She saw it nigh.