Storm Dancer
Arms reaching, High on a hill, A storm rages, Feel the thrill. Storm's full glory, Mid-night hour, My body moves, Aroused by power. On my lips, I taste the storm, As lightening and earth meets, Faster and faster on wet grass, Spinning, dancing in barefeet. A flash of white, The smell of rain on the air, As I dance in wild abandance, Rain comes on skin layed bare. Written November 20th, 2001 © on Nov 20 2001 03:46 AM PST, Phyllis Thompson 0 • 10
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"Arms reaching,..."