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Poetry |
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Dancing in the street
By Anthea
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When I walked into Marrakech,
Everybody said, hello, to me.
I walked Beverley Road, last February,
So I tried the technique of Crocodile Dundee:
I said, hello, to everybody.
And, that's how I met Dominic!
Dominic was a stranger,
We merely said, hello.
We said, hello, the next day
And strangers were no more.
We greeted, like two long-lost friends,
Grasped arms
And danced around each other in the street,
Though we merely were exchanging names,
Again perchance to meet.
When first I wrote this poem,
I wrote of the imagined virtues
And the beauty of the stranger,
Who danced with me in the street.
A friend, recognized the man,
And said, That's Dominic!
She even gave me his address:
Dominic is no-longer a stranger,
I guess.
What is the Stranger! But:
The friend you have not yet met!
So today I changed the words,
And then went out to shop.
Today, I saw, a really beautiful man
And, as I walked away,
I thought of Dominic.
I turned the corner,
Onto Beverley Road,
And! There stood Dominic.
Did Yoruba have a hand in this?
I've sent him a copy of this poem.
I wonder if he will ring me.
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Copyright © Anthea. 2004
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On a dark night, so cold a night
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