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The Dance Forgotten

When life was a song, and the song a dance

I would dance and sing, and sing and dance

I would find myself in the beat of the rain

When there was nothing left but all the pain

I would climb the trees of time forgotten

When history was made and history forgotten

When times were simpler, and full of life

I would remember those times, in the night

What sounds better than a howling wolf?

Singing about life as a lonely sad wolf

Singing to the lovely lonely silver moon

What sounds better, in the month of June?

High above in golden trees forgotten

A time of dark that I’ve forgotten

A time of blooming in the summer nights

High where I would come

And come to life.



And something a little different from most of the poetry I have written, a little more abstract. I will admit that I just let the words flow, looking for a little something that would give feeling rather than a pure play of words. Those are the poems that when they flow, you repeat them in your head for hours, just thinking about it. I was going for for feeling that anything else, and I feel that I might have accomplished it. Not my best work, by far, but something to share. Any feedback is welcome!


About Michelle

I read, write, sing, hunt rabid giraffes, play volleyball, and play guitar. I love my big Alberta skies, wheat fields, and camping trips in the summer. I love to travel. I'm secretly a nerd. (Read as, I watch musicals, read Harry Potter too often, and can quote most of the movies I watch.) I love to be out in the country, riding quads and bikes, and just getting away from the city. I love the friends that I have and I try to be as loyal as I can. I've been writing since I was little, and I love to do so. It's a passion of mine that I hold close to my heart, and I love to use it to express the way I feel, or freeze a moment, or a feeling, in the time that it occurred. I also lied about giraffe hunting. I usually only hunt mosquitoes.

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