Fm'itil

The title means Dancer....

The music starts to play, a rhythm sweet

My body twisting and turning with it

In the center of the stage, torches lit

My body moving in time with the beat

The crowd leaning from the edge of its seat

Some falling off the chair on which they sit

Entertaining them with my grace and wit

On the crudely built stage placed on the street

 

Into my craft, my art, I place my heart

Pouring out my soul to the crowd below

(The music; my wings, sweet peregrine wings)

A story is told, from finish to start

And the crowd applauds the beautiful show

(To my heart, my soul, the music, it sings)

Author's Note

An Italian sonnet.