Irish Dance - I was overcome by it for years before my daughter went to college - and now I find I'm missing it dreadfully.
It was:
Wigs, curly and springy and
black shoes (hard toe and soft)
straight arms and flying feet
evenings of lessons
bonding with moms
while the daughters drilled
in shorts and white knee socks
and green dance school shirts
It was:
early Saturday mornings
travelling to competitions
tanning beds and make up artists
and glittery costumes that
cost a fortune
cold weekend gatherings in
MARCH! Month of Irish traditions
snow on the ground, or not
dancing down Main Street or
Constitution Avenue
It was:
toes tapping
curls flying
swinging partners
cheering crowds
celebrating the wearing o' the Green
together
2020 Vision
9 hours ago
Your post is filled with great descriptions and rays of light and hope. I can almost hear the music they are dancing to. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteI vividly remember your daughter dancing at International Night, and yes, a flurry of curls and flying feet flood my senses.
ReplyDeleteI wasn’t there at the lessons and events, but your writing painted a picture along the way. Your poem captures the sweetness of that precious time!
ReplyDelete