The Dancer and the Dance.

The music pulses, thumps, bounces and beats,
Over it the sound of laughter and the slapping of feet.
Primal, Tribal, harking back to the dawn of man,
Beyond even Adam that delved and Eve that span.

Joy of expression, freedom of movement
Body writhing, wriggling and bent,
Flung out as if flying; then tight as a ball.
All at once she seems to run, slighter and crawl.

Trailing tresses, that have never been cut,
She squeezes her eyes tight shut,
Twisting, twirling, holding on to nought
She circles east, then south, then west, then north

Round and round and round and round
Gathering first speed and then sound
Till she slips and falls unto the ground
She places a hand to her head and does Pronounce
“ Mama, I fell and got an Ouch “