P O E T R Y C O R N E R

Oh, the music was plucking my heartstrings, Each note a blown kiss to my soul, Those beautiful lyrics of whimsy, As the rhapsodies over me stole.

To haunt and beguile all my senses, And weave their fine web with their spell, But I knew as he danced and he held me, He was thinking and dreaming as well.

Of a love that was past the horizon, Beyond but before every dawn. He dwells on the day and the darkness, When sickness had brought him to mourn.

The music that tore at my heartstrings, With its raptures that set me to flame, But I knew as we danced he was with her, And I heard as he whispered her name.

'Candida, Candida, I love you', So whispered my Lord of the Dance, For his heart was a Partner to Dreaming, He glided as though in a trance.

'My soul, it is yours, it is with you, In heaven beyond earthly care, And the beautiful music we dance to, Is the music that lifts me up there.'

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