She sits on the sidelines, her heart filled with despair,
While melodic, danceable music fills the air;
She sits and waits just to have the chance
To express the rhythm of the music through her dance.

She watches the dancers, pair after pair,
Gliding past her as she sits alone in her chair;
Each note of the music just adds to her pain;
Will she ever be asked to dance once again?

There are some men standing over there by the door,
Why are they not out on the dancing floor?
What is wrong with them, to come, but not dance,
When they, unlike her, have every conceivable chance?

A man is walking toward her chair; he is coming her way
Will this finally be her chance to swing and to sway?
He walks right past her, never even giving her a glance,
Now he is asking the lady at the next table to dance.

The pain felt by a heart repeatedly stabbed with a lance
Is nothing compared to hearing a Tango and not to dance;
Her soul is dancing to the sensual, rhythmic beat,
But her body is seemingly stuck to her seat.



Dancing to a single Tango or Samba could make her night;
She asks for so little, it just doesn't seem right
That even ladies less pretty or experienced, it seems,
Are out there dancing and living her dreams.

The frozen smile is growing heavy on her face,
As a lively Swing tune picks up the pace;
Cannot anyone see just how deeply she yearns
To be dancing, doing all the fancy twists and turns?

Cannot anyone see the attractive lady sitting there,
Waiting for one little chance to get up out of her chair?
She is not asking for a commitment, or even romance,
All she is asking for is to dance one single dance.

Would it kill any one of the men standing there
To walk up to her and lift her from her burdensome chair,
To place his hand in hers, offering her this one little chance,
To make her happy by asking her to share this dance?



Oh, to be cursed with this burning desire to dance,
To sit and wait patiently for every single chance
To feel the heart, the soul, and the body complete
Integrated with the music from her head to her feet.

Feeling every beat of the music pounding in her heart.
Tearing her soul, her mind, and her body apart.
As she aches to express the feelings the music provokes,
The music so perfect, so full of dreams and of hopes.

In a trance-like state, she dares to look up and glance
Into the eyes of a gentlemen who is asking her to dance;
At last, she is out of her chair and up on her feet,
Dancing to the music and finally feeling complete.

Tears of happiness and joy start to well up in her eyes
And her smile shines so brightly, it could light up the skies;
Ecstatic to be lost in the music, gliding across the dance floor,
Dancing to the heartbeat of the music - a wallflower no more.

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All poems Copyright © Barbara A. Larkin.
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Email: dancingbarbara@yahoo.com