Secret dance

Tapping your toes inside your shoes

Sitting on the bus just listening to blues.

Your secret rhythm, no one else knows,

Hidden in the leg gloves, performed by toes.

Smiling at the hidden dance, quite pure joy,

The shoe acting as the horse of troy.

That on its own is quite a sweet thing,

But, if you happen to notice someone else sing,

Or even do their own little tap,

It’s like noticing someone else take a nap.

You like napping, so do they,

Instant connection kept at bay

Only by the rules we set ourselves,

Us and our silly little shyness elves.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s