I Write Poetry

She dances by the midnight hour,
In a place we can not see,
Where magic lies in wait,
Beneath the willowed tree,

She dances to the music,
Which plays from river streams,
Where no one else can see her,
Except the starlight beams,

She dances to ease her pain,
She dances to forget,
She dances with her shadows,
And the moonlight marionette,

She dances in fire embers,
She dances in midst of rain,
As the moon her dances change,
Still she dances just the same,

Each move upon the dewdrop grass,
Each leap from heel to toe,
Each step a small adventure,
In the void of the darkness glow,

She dances until dawn,
Once she knows that she must leave,
Back to a world filled with monsters,
Where nothing is as perceived.