She danced between dreams rusted and worn,
whirling and twirling until the music
stopped, and she slipped through the keyhole
of door number three where she found
another door that hinged on a dream.
And the lock was broken.
Still dreaming and dancing,
Sandy
Responding to a Tweetspeak Poetry prompt on dancers and dreams.
If the lock is broken
then the door is open
🙂
Sandra,
I can see you dancing and dreaming…and it is beautiful 🙂
Simply beautiful!
Oh love, love, love..
mmm … He holds that key …