Cutting Rugs

Trip the light
of the silvery moon, swoon
and swing and sway
at our star

Slice your self
off a piece of this polka
-dot sky, waltz along
that ebony carpet
and watch the
world reel by.

Twist her beams
into your hair, an electric
calypso slide. Let’s go.

Dip into
a little salsa, and
taste its tang



Quickly prompted.



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5 Responses to Cutting Rugs

  1. I just love the way you play with words, De!! 🙂

  2. Ha! That “oh” is what happens when you dance at a certain age! Or sometimes not even when you dance – just moving a certain way!
    But perhaps it’s just a romantic poem and the oh is a great surprise 🙂

  3. julespaige says:

    Big smile. Oh, so big!
    Put mine in on the wrong site last eve… I was tired –

  4. LOVE it! This poem dances and I’ll tang-oh with you anytime, ma’am! 😀

  5. Shawna says:

    “Trip the light

    I adore the way that sounds. It crazy-makes me want to dance.

    You are so very creative, girl. Love the “tango” at the end. And the salsa. 🙂

    This is my favorite:
    “Twist her beams
    into your hair, an electric
    calypso slide.”

    “Slice your self” … Like a pie/pi/phi/P hi, baby.

    Ooh, waltzing along polka dots in the sky. Constellations. Star-walking. That is awesome!

    You are the coolest, chica. I dig ya tha most!

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