Fragile Heart

Tis thoughts that dance and seem to count
More than perfect flowers can amount
To, for thoughts of some form of affection
Dew-doffed flowers are a type of confection


A balm to a dented soul
A token to try to make it...whole...
Tis a mere garden of darkeness and dirth
A wound long past, covered with soiled mirth


But tis true, the heart was sorely broken
And to dance and sing, is but a token
For the potion that Socrates didst partake
Could nae lesson the wounds that he did make
But the knowledge to you that I do impart..
Is a simple warning....about a dancers heart.
Copyright 1996, Dancers Inc



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Picture "periwinkle" by Michael Whelan
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