Fantasy

The first strains of music,
Reverberate through the theatre,
I-
The ballerina unfurl from my curled position,
Like a hibiscus in the morning,
Lightly sprinkled with the nights dew.
I dance across the polished stage,
Becoming as one with the music,
One with the drama and the passion,
Pirouetting,
Leaping,
Around that private place in my mind,
Where only my deepest emotions exist.
A place created by the rhapsody of dance
And the love in my heart.
As the music ends,
My private world melts away,
Slowly away like the fog,
Bringing me back to the stage
Where,
All around me I hear thunderous applause.

Simmone Lynch

Copyright ©2002 Simmone Annalisa Lynch