Dance Joy–OLN dVerse Poets

Dance Joy–a Quadrille

It’s winter now.
Butterflies are gone,
streaks through gray.

You celebrate, dance joy.

A monochromatic palette
paints my world.
Leaves moulder
nourish damp soil,
prepare for new growth.

I dance
my own autumn
until the day
I, too, may encounter butterflies
in spring.

Image: torange labeled for non commercial use.

Image: torange
labeled for non commercial use.

I missed the recent prompt to write a quadrille–a poem of exactly 44 words, using the word dance with an object. So, I took an old poem I had saved in my “Edit or Trash” file and did a complete overhaul on it. I wrote this in about 2002 for a friend of mine who had died at a very young age, Karen Casey, age 55. Hope I make it in time!

8 thoughts on “Dance Joy–OLN dVerse Poets

  1. Kate Mia says:

    SeAsons greeting
    All fOur
    humans now
    create FliGht
    through liGht
    inside shiNinG
    briGht aLL
    lONg for


  2. 5h2o says:

    That last stanza — ‘I dance/my own autumn’ – wow. So glad you dug it out of the trash bin and gave it some more attention. Lovely.


  3. Candy says:

    this is a hopeful poem and beautiful tribute to your friend


  4. This is a wonderful piece Victoria.. The uses of dance as object and the season metaphor works so well to describe the passing, there is so much hope in that use.


  5. I love that final stanza, Victoria. Beautiful.


  6. Mary says:

    This is just beautiful, Victoria! Hopefully your friend is dancing joy! And I think it is always good to realize that there will be those butterflies in spring…..


  7. Grace says:

    I love the dancing with the seasons, from winter, autumn, and finally for spring ~ You have a positive attitude towards the monochromotic palette of the world ~ The ending note is very inspiring ~


  8. whimsygizmo says:

    This is simply stunning, Victoria. Joy is one of my favorite words – it’s my daughter’s name (twice – Abigail, which means “Joy of my Father,” and then Joy again as her middle name). I LOVE “I dance my own autumn.” May we dance in the season we’re in, always. Beautiful.


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