Her Last Dance Poem by James Callos Jordan

This lass has danced her last dance,
Now is the time for her sleep;
Into the coil of ashes.

As the last verse of the song,
Played in anticipation;
Inside that candle lit room.

Tension begins to flicker,
In simultaneous chime;
Just like a nursery rhyme.

The memories of the past,
The stillness of the present;
The terror of the future.

All sound started to vanish,
Then came the deafening silence;
From the end of that sweet song

The lass paused for a moment,
Trying to compose her self;
While taking a whiff of air.

Then slowly she walks away,
Outside that oak crafted door;
Praying she could dance again.

March 17,2009