A Waltz of Words
From the time I get up, yes, I waltz with my words.
And at times, they are shy, oh, I know it’s absurd.
On occasion, they flirt like a southern belle.
With wide smiles, words invite and still others repel.
But their dance is so lovely I keep coming back.
Though I step on their toes, I develop a knack.
Like a lover with hand on a slim, dainty waist,
I can guide in a whirl either slow or in haste.
And our laughter’s contagious, soon others around
Begin clapping in time to their rhythm and sound.
In the evening, exhausted, we bid all adieu,
Till the morning sun rises and we waltz anew.
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