The rustle of silk
By Ruth Holroyd, May 2010
The lights dim, darkness fills the room.
As the curtains slowly rise,
shadows of bodies bloom,
like flowers reaching for the skies.
The rustle of silk
as movement takes hold.
Skin pale as milk
The dancers unfold.
An arm stretched wide
Toes pointed, legs taut
Seeming to glide
Muscles and sinews wrought
Sometimes slow with poise,
others lithe and joyful.
Moving in time without noise:
Fragile, beautiful and graceful.
Fluid traces fill the space.
The dancers are as one.
Moving with such grace.
A spider’s web is spun.
Their very souls entwine.
Rhythm and music flow.
Total symmetry, a winding vine;
Flowing, melding, all aglow.
Amazing, graceful statuesque,
like birds in formation together.
One final glorious arabesque;
landing like a feather.
A poem inspired by the art of Jane Waller