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“And Lilian Danced” .
A little; gilded light flickered in the spheres of diamonds, silver: that were studied with rubies:
That flashed across a crimson-chipped nail; whose toned square creases caught the light;
That rained down on her as stage lights; filling her with a golden gloom.
Her eyes; pupils dilated with black and emerald; irises sharp as rotten garnets; gleamed with
Sudden fire; and the fireplace burned with her curled; doll-etched eyelashes; Which fluttered;
And rode down the river; like a bottle of water; unleashed, gushing.
Hair; weaved-yellow; like strands of rope; plucked from a golden apple; poured down: like a pony, whose hooves flamed up; like Monopoly tokens, Who shifted to take the advantage.
Lilian; who raised her silver-studded mirror; Like a throne: That shined on high;
Like a red sash of royalty; That glittered with pale azure, and pearl pink.
Lilian; raised a shoe; Crooked like Cinderella: purely bent; Leg trembled and cracked:
Into the eye of the mirror, as the light caught it: and cut across; burning her eyes:
Her lovely, saucer-marble eyes.
Music sparked; played a tune of harp, on a recorder; That, white; tiny, delicate;
Prickled her fairy-dusted bones; Her hand-held notes: Her dancer’s twist, her actor’s smile.
Sown up like a puppet-doll; Stiches and wool took her ballerina crinoline in; and a bound bow,
Sealed her back; Like a sunset of coral; in a Haze of colours; set off in a blue sky.
Silk-ribbon; pushed the shimmering hair back; Into a high bun; that Smirked in the glasses of Mirror, Shaped like Salmon: or Champagne.
The ribbon creased her face; Like a dancer’s move towards grace; as she prepared for her date;
With the river song.
Lilian; Whose eye drops were fanned in the wind; blue, airy; perfect, Crept towards the little chamber:
Where the gramophone lay in wait; laid out like a doll: folded in a toy package: lined and black.
Notes began to lift up from the lyrics; of robins: and swan, that bent its ringed neck; Like Lilian as she pointed her toes; and Made magic in the air; Sung in the minutes that recorded her art; Her painting: her song.
Seen by no one; the silent mover: The thief; she circled her dance; and bled her toes; on the torn piece of carpet; that scuffed her folded socks. White; thick: woollen, fit for a dancer.
Lilian: brushed the magic back from her hair; Placed her little mirror in a gap in the glass-wall:
And shook out her hair, the pink ribbon;
And stepped into the elements of music;
With the blue sky toning to midnight; dark:
She cricked her ears to the beats of the song;
Stepped forward like a finch,
And Lilian danced.
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This is a piece I composed; entering the mind of a young woman; as she prepares her piece. I hope you can hear the music of the dance in my poem. It expresses the core of art; and the magic of performing it; delicate as a ribbon; still as a robin. The character; "Lilian", is very much a symbol of this.