Dancing With My Muse She pulls me by my fingertips to dance by soft moonlight, not a word of explanation why she left when she took flight But I’m hopeless to resist her as she tempts me to the dance then spins me round and round into a dizzy trance. She tells me tales of songs she’s seen and places she has heard, while colours of the rainbows spread throughout her words. She brings me thoughts of love from unexpected places; tells stories of the sorrows she’s seen on peoples’ faces Dancing on her tiptoes like a prima ballerina; she dips and twirls and tangos like a sultry Signorina. Then when the dance is over she quickly fades from sight until the time she next returns to dance with me at night. august 2003