I wrote this poem in the fall of my freshman year at college. Mostly I was having fun with the rhyme schemes. Actually it was one of those times when I felt like an expert skier of words – slaloming down the sounds with ease and grace. The sentiment, while not one I was deeply feeling at the time or writing out from, was one I could remember and relate to.
Something wrong, something right
Something wrong, something right
Something true, something trite
All of us are waiting for the answer
Let the song play through the night
The magic shoes are always bright
And who will try to stop the dancer?
Who will try to stop the dancer?
Frenzy spins her topsy turvy
All the scenes are blurred
She celebrates in sorry fury
While we wait to hear the answer
Who will try to stop the dancer?
Someone said it’s good to sing
And see the images expressed
But all the joy is spun away
And still the dancer finds no rest
And something’s wrong – she’s no more blessed
And something’s wrong – she’s no more blessed
She’s crying, asking why
The shoes give no reply
And why won’t someone try to stop the dancer?
Sluggish days and sleepless nights
Though pen is dead, the hand still writes
In limp ink, tired assignments
My mind seeks realignment
But no one here can find it
And we’re still waiting for the answer
Who will try to stop the dancer?
©Wendy Mulhern
Fall, 1975