She danced a circle dance for the moon and the stars.
Her hair flowed freely in the warm nightly breeze.
I told the kind moon, thank you for sending me the gift of kind and gentle woman.
She came closer to me and she whispered. “The sea is alive tonight. The dancing waves and the goddess of the sea demand dance, embrace and sweet kisses. ” She took my hands and I held her soft body near and we did a midnight waltz for the spirits dancing with us near the Pacific ocean.
She made no promises to me, but her tender kisses made my dead heart come alive. Made me wish we could be like new lovers trying to take in the night and find secret places where lovers seek and know true and free comfort.
I told her. Sweet girl. You made my wishes and dream…
I remember Paris. You were in your perfect place and free. Your mind running wild in the beauty of the old city of Paris. The kind, City of lights.
We became part of the midnight myths and we danced where Hemingway lived his books. We create our places with the ancient lovers finding dance and song inviting hot and dangerous nights.
You told me. “I want lover’s tryst and to have the vagabond heart. Love should be set in motion for us to be serenaded by sensuous kiss and wicked embrace seen by the Paris moon. I want us enraged with explosive lovemaking. Making the sleeping Gods come alive my Johnnie.”
Exquisite beauty danced for me by the lights of the candles. The open windows allowed us to see the Paris lights. I watched her dance to the song of Leonard Cohen. “A thousand kisses deep.”
I saw her there
Alone on the dance floor
Swaying to the music
She sure looked good
As she moved to the Blues
She always loved the beat of the Blues
As we danced together But tonight we were both alone
A cool wind had
Come between us And had blown out the flames
Of what once was our love
She still danced though
And I still stood and watched
I felt a tear
Slide down my cheek
She sure looked good
Swaying to the Blues
Once the bravest man on the block, he loved the darkest girl on the dead-end street. Her eyes, blackest eyes, he had ever seen.
In the deadly days of his wars, the dead soldiers showed more light than her sleeping soul could feel. He sought the darkness of his world and the darkness found him. He wrote to the girl with the hair of auburn and the pale skin of white. I understand your turmoil and how twisted the world can be.
Abigail wrote him back, Dear Johnnie, if you believe in the lullabies and the happy ending tales. You will know distaste and disappointment. I am here for you and I will accept love from the sleeping man. The dead man arms, I shall fall. I left a alive rose for you and I am waiting.