It seems to start,
With hint of impulse
Inside the heart,
Where links ones soul
To body’s rhythm,
When legs cajole steps
To tug at your mind,
Harmonizing in time
How bodies move
With music’s define,
And dancer groove
In and out to infuse,
Ones body and mind!
Poetry on a Canapé 
What a lovely way to describe dancing, from the inside out.
Thank you Paulette… When I was very young, eleven years of age to be exact, it was Christmas time, as I recall a month after father had extinguished, and our small family of four, plus my mother’s sister or favourite aunt, who thought to cheer us up by dancing. She started with me by forcing me to learn to dance, thus so by dragging me struggling from behind the sofa to, in spite of my reluctance, teach me to the tune of Cole Porter music of the time. From that day on I never stopped, the while hoping one day I could take over from Fred Astaire when he retired. Fred never stopped either, and I couldn’t wait any longer…and had forgotten that ambition when I lived five years in California in the early eighties! I still have the same feelings about all dancing, as I describe in this poem. Jean-Jacques
I love dancing, both my meager attemps and the more successful ones coming from professional dancers. I wish the contemporary choreographers would make a better use of music and melody. Thank you for referring to the music
Merci Diane, your words are music to my ears! As I’ve always loved dancing, I could not feel any different toward music, for dancing can’t really live without music. For me they go hand in hand. Jean-Jacques
Yesterday was the third anniversary of my father’s passing. These words were especially meaningful to me…
For music to define
How body’s meant to move..
My father loved music – he would play his fiddle (he was a Scot) and tap his feet. Dancing is celebrating the joy of living. Thank you so much for this post – it meant a great deal to me.
You’re welcome Rebecca… always a pleasure to please a sensitive soul, and kindly friend. Jean-Jacques