Showing posts with label Dancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dancer. Show all posts
Thursday, 17 August 2017
I look in your eye
I'm no flash dancer
No, it's not my style
But you're in my arms
We'll spin for a while
I feel your warm hand
Together we're close
We move our bodies
You scent's like a rose
I look in your eye
Deep as a dark pool
Oh music play on
For I'm but a fool
Your eyes now meet mine
They're eager for more
Dancing is fun
But you I adore
Image found ar www.photoessay.net
Sunday, 23 April 2017
Mind in turmoil
How my mind is in turmoil
As midnight's pale moon looks on
As bastard minded statesmen
Cause peacetime hopes rot away
The blind buggers now rule us
Speak such candy coated lies
Seldom in my memory
Have the world's hope looked so grey
So play some calming music
I'll imagine maidens dancing
Liting sounds of soft singing
May well ease my mind this day
Image found at www.nytimes.com
Saturday, 19 March 2016
Pacific pearl
I have always been pasty faced
Thus girls have been in no great haste
To share my kisses so I've been chaste
Which I think has been such a waste
Until I met this gorgeous Maori girl
We rubbed our noses for a whirl
She danced before me with pois she'd twirl
Think I'll stick with this Pacific pearl
NOTE: Pois are soft balls on cords used in Maori dancing
Image found at www.pinterest.com
Sunday, 7 June 2015
The Spanish Girl
I went to great lengths
To woo this sweet Spanish girl
Her dark eyes flashing
How I ached for her
Teasing shaking her dark hair
Really must touch her
That pain of longing
She knew how much I craved her
Smiling she just laughed
I had not the strength
To resist the temptation
When she approached me
She leaned over me
I place a ten Euro note
In her sweet cleavage
Was pulled to my feet
Then things got out of control
I was her partner!
How the crowd did clap
Laughing at all my antics
Salt rubbed in my wounds
A stain on my pride
Other faults do spring to mind
But none quite as bad
Sunday, 23 November 2014
I can live again
I look at her dance
Pirouettes of such longing
Memorable moments
Children’s loving hands
Lonely tear spills from my eyes
Pride and loneliness
Such stain on my heart
Heart’s sad flutter of regret
Cloudy with sorrow
Fateful decision
My miserable loneliness
Sad neglected life
Firm and resolute
Loving times not forgotten
I can live again
Image from: www.dance-for-kids.com
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Waking up in Samoa
I had hardly been asleep a few minutes or so I thought when I felt a nudge on my back. My wife whispered “Wake Up! There’s someone at the door”.
My eyes opened reluctantly, I glanced at my watch. It was 9 o’clock in the morning and we were in a hotel room. The gentle tap came again and so I wrapped myself up and went to the door and opened it. There smiling happily at me was a young Samoan girl all ready to clean the room. I apologised and explained we had only arrived a few hours ago at 5am in the morning after a night flight from Sydney. “Could you come back a little later?”
She nodded reluctantly as the girls clearly worked to a routine. We were visiting Western Samoa in the Pacific and having done some research had chosen to stay at “Aggie Grey’s Hotel” on the waterfront.
In the heady days of colonisation of little nations by the world’s powers the Samoan Island’s were disputed by Britain, Germany and the USA keeping their gun ships handy to stake their claim. In this case it was decided that Germany was to be lucky superpower and the two main islands Savaii and Upolu became their colony in 1899, while the United States took over the smaller islands and much of the Pacific Ocean waters in the vicinity. Robert Louis Stevenson the author of several adventure books lived there with his extended family until his death in 1889. Western Samoa finally gained it’s independence in 1962 after having New Zealand as its colonial master following WW1.
So now we were in this warm paradise of “South Pacific” fame staying in the timber framed hotel owned by the aging Aggie Grey who had made her money trading with the occupying allied forces during WW2. She now employed the young men and women from her home village in the hotel and who were also the fia fia dancers at the evening’s entertainment. We loved the place. At the swimming pool my wife found herself swimming with the film star Robert Morley. The walkways had bunches of bananas hanging down for the staff to eat as they worked (and also tempting the guests) and there was all invading tropical perfume of exotic flowers and coconut oil. Needless to say I was entranced by the shy smile of the girls plaiting flowers to decorate the bedrooms as they sat in the walkways speaking to each other with a sound like the gentle murmuring of the ocean.
We explored the capital Apia with it German colonial timbered building and sat quietly in the numerous churches but kept clear of the children who with machetes busily cut the lawns with skilful swipes.
It was humid and the first few days the walks were short with frequent rests and long drinks and a cool off in the pool. We explored the island on day trips and discovered waterfalls and swimming holes and exotic beaches and so many churches that were told were built with building material meant to mend the roads, which clearly never were.
Mind you it could have been the pigs that dug up the road. They wandered about freely and wherever they wanted eating whatever they could find.
The bus transport was mainly converted trucks with seats and no windows. It was too humid for that. These plied their way to villages collected the locals to take them to the market and to return later in the afternoon with all their purchases in huge baskets or even building materials tied to the roof or in the aisles so access was an adventure.
On one trip we boarded the crowded tourist bus last and I had to sit next to the driver with the pretty young guide wedged in beside me. She chatted about everything under the sun and told me her surname was Schmidt which clearly came from the German colonial era. As the bus rattled along her bare leg and mine frequently touched and at one time she looked at me and said you are browner that I am, proudly placing her arm against mine to prove it.
Later we took a trip to the larger but lesser populated island of Savaii and walked over the lava fields from an old volcano eruption and shown the “Virgin’s Grave” where a young girl died in a lava flow. Later we nodded thanks at a refreshment stop when the owner proudly showed us her husband's grave in the garden outside the back door as we made to leave.
On the short flight back to Apia’s airport only we were weighed not the luggage before we boarded the light plane as there are some very big people in Samoa! The flight was delayed a little as a mother and her young child boarded late to be taken to the hospital on the main island. As she nursed her child I held the bottle of saline drip attached to his arm while my wife sat next to the pilot up front.
Another night at the hotel the staff also performed in the Fia Fia nights entertaining guests with their seductive dancing and singing and the girl that had served me in the hotel shop earlier now danced enticingly before me. The lights were turned down and the men juggled with their flaming brands.
When we returned I said I really wanted to go again but my better half shook her head and said “Wake up, the first time is magical but it would never be the same again.” Yet even she had been entranced with one of the male dancers!
It is nearly thirty years since we went there and I still remember the eyes the girl that danced before me and who looked only at me.Wednesday, 27 July 2011
My glance in the past
The problem is I cannot dance
This is an essential for romance
I should have been born raised in France
Yes, that would have improved my chance
I’m not good at idle banter
As well as not able to canter
Round a room like an enchanter
So perhaps you’ll be the granter
of a kiss, so do not grumble
When my talk turns into mumble
and all I can do is fumble
Say yes, and I will not stumble
Monday, 15 February 2010
The limping dancer
Henry Wilson, was recently bereaved. His wife Joy had died a few weeks previously and their children were concerned he was retreating into his shell. He seemed to have no interest in anything. Henry and Joy had planned a cruise months before, and at the due time paid their final payment with still three months to the sailing date. Henry had resigned himself to losing all the money as little or none would be refunded now. The children however took control and said he should go, it would do him good, make a break, get him out of himself and all the other euphemisms for them to stop worrying about him for a bit. He knew this and allowed himself under protest to agree to their suggestion and so he found himself in Sydney boarding a cruise liner sailing around New Zealand for a fortnight. Henry was almost glad not to have the kids fussing over him when they had their own families to worry about.
He was pleased with his cabin, even though it was really meant for the two of them, he was happy with the food, the helpfulness of the crew and the friendliness of everyone on board who knew not one thing about him. He soon found the library and spent hours in there or in many of the other hideaways that he found on the ship to do exactly nothing, alone. He quite enjoyed that.
That was until the night of the high seas and the closing of some of the open decks the next day. Henry retreated to the library as usual and happily read a Kurt Vonnegut book. A few people came in but stayed just a few minutes. Then a girl limped in. Henry had to admit she was stunning. She plonked herself down at the librarian's desk, sighed and opened the register which recorded the books borrowed. Henry returned to Kurt Vonnegut. A few minutes passed and the girl sighed again. Henry looked up at her and saw that she was crying.
"Are you all right?
Her sniff turned into a sob and Henry was concerned. He drew up a chair close to her and asked if her bandaged ankle hurt . She shook her head and looked at him for the first time. She produced a very weak smile and said "It was all my own fault. I'm one of the dancers in the show and was careless in the rough weather last night in the late show and sprained my ankle. Everyone is furious with me." There was a long pause, then "It does hurt a bit"
Henry patted her shoulder and said. "It's all right, it'll mend soon and you will back with them again."
She moaned sadly, "No, no, I've messed everything up. The other girls aren't speaking. What do you think it's like in our cabin? There are four of us crammed in and they are all being hateful."
They talked a bit, she recorded the infrequent books borrowed by the library's users, and Henry even went to get them both a coffee from the bar a short walk away. He even mentioned Joy and the pressure from his kids. He found out that her name was Hazel. Later as her shift came to an end she sighed again. "Back to the bitches she said" and then a little later, "The trouble is I am expected to go to the rehearsals to watch and contribute. I just can't escape."
Henry then did something that was quite uncharacteristic of him. He became involved.
"Well if you want to hide away for a bit when your are not busy you can always use my cabin."
There was silence for bit. Then realising he may have said something very foolish, he came out with. "When I'm out of course, or on shore." He paused then said, "I'm sorry I am being silly, it is not ethical is it? You are so pretty and look so sad and I feel that way too. No that's not right, I am not pretty am I?" She laughed at Henry's jumble of words. Then she looked at him as if weighing up the proposal and it's implications. "I am as daft as a brush too," she said, "but I am going to take you up on that offer. But it won't work if you go ashore as they identify you with the card as you leave the ship."
So that very afternoon, Hazel used Henry's cabin. She luxuriated in the spaciousness, sat for a while on the balcony, read a magazine and before long lay on the bed and dozed off. Henry meanwhile went to a wine tasting which was awful, sat in on a art auction where the pictures were kitsch and mass produced and then took afternoon tea and cakes in the Bayou Dining Room which was horrible because everyone seemed to be starving! He left quickly and checked his watch.
He went back to the cabin expecting it to be empty, but Hazel was sound asleep on the bed. He sat in the chair for a while then he too lay out on the bed. He could sense her femininity, close to him, he breathed in the fresh perfume of her body, and closed his eyes and remembered when he was young and free. He settled down and careful not to touch her gradually drifted of to sleep himself.
Hazel woke and felt Henry on the bed, and also felt his hand gently holding her ankle, so they lay like that for some time. She remembered the film "Lost in Translation" where Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson lay on a bed too, with him just holding her foot. This is a very nice man she thought, thank heavens it is only a short trip otherwise I might do something really silly. What did Henry say in the library? "It's not ethical." To hell with that, she mused as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. She eased herself off the bed and put her shoes back on, grabbed her crutches and let herself quietly out of the cabin. "I'll ring him in the cabin tomorrow."
He was pleased with his cabin, even though it was really meant for the two of them, he was happy with the food, the helpfulness of the crew and the friendliness of everyone on board who knew not one thing about him. He soon found the library and spent hours in there or in many of the other hideaways that he found on the ship to do exactly nothing, alone. He quite enjoyed that.
That was until the night of the high seas and the closing of some of the open decks the next day. Henry retreated to the library as usual and happily read a Kurt Vonnegut book. A few people came in but stayed just a few minutes. Then a girl limped in. Henry had to admit she was stunning. She plonked herself down at the librarian's desk, sighed and opened the register which recorded the books borrowed. Henry returned to Kurt Vonnegut. A few minutes passed and the girl sighed again. Henry looked up at her and saw that she was crying.
"Are you all right?
Her sniff turned into a sob and Henry was concerned. He drew up a chair close to her and asked if her bandaged ankle hurt . She shook her head and looked at him for the first time. She produced a very weak smile and said "It was all my own fault. I'm one of the dancers in the show and was careless in the rough weather last night in the late show and sprained my ankle. Everyone is furious with me." There was a long pause, then "It does hurt a bit"
Henry patted her shoulder and said. "It's all right, it'll mend soon and you will back with them again."
She moaned sadly, "No, no, I've messed everything up. The other girls aren't speaking. What do you think it's like in our cabin? There are four of us crammed in and they are all being hateful."
They talked a bit, she recorded the infrequent books borrowed by the library's users, and Henry even went to get them both a coffee from the bar a short walk away. He even mentioned Joy and the pressure from his kids. He found out that her name was Hazel. Later as her shift came to an end she sighed again. "Back to the bitches she said" and then a little later, "The trouble is I am expected to go to the rehearsals to watch and contribute. I just can't escape."
Henry then did something that was quite uncharacteristic of him. He became involved.
"Well if you want to hide away for a bit when your are not busy you can always use my cabin."
There was silence for bit. Then realising he may have said something very foolish, he came out with. "When I'm out of course, or on shore." He paused then said, "I'm sorry I am being silly, it is not ethical is it? You are so pretty and look so sad and I feel that way too. No that's not right, I am not pretty am I?" She laughed at Henry's jumble of words. Then she looked at him as if weighing up the proposal and it's implications. "I am as daft as a brush too," she said, "but I am going to take you up on that offer. But it won't work if you go ashore as they identify you with the card as you leave the ship."
So that very afternoon, Hazel used Henry's cabin. She luxuriated in the spaciousness, sat for a while on the balcony, read a magazine and before long lay on the bed and dozed off. Henry meanwhile went to a wine tasting which was awful, sat in on a art auction where the pictures were kitsch and mass produced and then took afternoon tea and cakes in the Bayou Dining Room which was horrible because everyone seemed to be starving! He left quickly and checked his watch.
He went back to the cabin expecting it to be empty, but Hazel was sound asleep on the bed. He sat in the chair for a while then he too lay out on the bed. He could sense her femininity, close to him, he breathed in the fresh perfume of her body, and closed his eyes and remembered when he was young and free. He settled down and careful not to touch her gradually drifted of to sleep himself.
Hazel woke and felt Henry on the bed, and also felt his hand gently holding her ankle, so they lay like that for some time. She remembered the film "Lost in Translation" where Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson lay on a bed too, with him just holding her foot. This is a very nice man she thought, thank heavens it is only a short trip otherwise I might do something really silly. What did Henry say in the library? "It's not ethical." To hell with that, she mused as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. She eased herself off the bed and put her shoes back on, grabbed her crutches and let herself quietly out of the cabin. "I'll ring him in the cabin tomorrow."
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