ALLESANDRE
by Galen of Bristol
(c) 1995, Paul T. Mitchell, all rights reserved.
Who is this? The very Terpsichore!
Her muse touches, and inspires me to dance.
With her, hand in hand, my toes tell the story.
Her eyes hold mine, and thoughts turn to romance.
With grace unaccustomed, together move
My feet, unsupervis'd, find their places,
My face, ever toward hers, seeks to prove
Whether her heart pounds, or her blood races.
For from the first, for me, she is all.
Others are shadows, joining and parting.
Her beauty of form and voice light the hall.
I am her poor moth, all disregarding.
How powerful the dance to capture so
My heart and mind for one lady to know!
