She loves to Dance.

She dances now,

a happy dance,

a dance of the Spring

she knows is Coming.

she Jumps and Shouts

with Joy

It is a dance

of tulips

of birds returning North

of budding trees

of new spring grass

of dew

of sunshine

of gentle, drizzling rains

But Alas!

She has angered

the Winter Gods,

the Deities of Darkness and Ice

They send a storm

to put her in her place

a Storm

of howling Winds

of Snow and Hail

a storm of Pure Fury

And all the while,

she sits inside,

gazing out the window with a


and then.

An Idea!

Her Muse has not yet forsaken her

she Smirks

she Stands

and she Dances.

she Dances again,

a slow, sad dance,

a dance of the Winter

that will always be.

This is a dance

of deadness

of silence

of naked trees

of thick, snowy blankets

of frost

of short days

of brutal blizzards

like the one that rages

just outside

But Behold!

the Storm is Ended!

the Winds die,

the Snow ceases,

and the Skies clear

She smiles.

It worked!

And she opens the door

and steps outside

to dance

in her New Spring Day.