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Challenge Ended
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Ended March 10, 2018 • 27 Entries • Created by sandflea68
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Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Cover image for post The Dance of Life, by CarpeNoctem
Profile avatar image for CarpeNoctem
CarpeNoctem

The Dance of Life

the sound of wind

whispering through the trees

flows through her heart-

a music to dreamy mind

sets her spirit free

from a world apart

sway with the grass

around and around

through the meadow, among the butterflies

as the last rays of sunlight fade;

mingling hands with her bonnie lass

tapping her toes on the grassy ground

dance till nighttime falls, beneath moonlit skies

the bonnie lass says “mother, i’m no longer afraid”

eyes closed as leaves rustling in the breeze

caresses her grieving heart

gently whispers the life symphony

for there will come the days of ease

twirling through the shattered part;

tears to smiles for her to see.

----

A modification of my original poem 'The Eternal Garden' which was written for my client.

#death #loss #healing #dance

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Cover image for post Toe Tapping Tango, by JamesMByers
Profile avatar image for JamesMByers
JamesMByers

Toe Tapping Tango

We dance tapping toes to the tango,

A lighthearted taste of a mango

And as we go round,

The bite and the sound

Transform our dance to the fandango ...

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Cover image for post Wild Feet, by sandflea68
Profile avatar image for sandflea68
sandflea68

Wild Feet

Flip the hip

let it rip

step to beat

dancing feet

toe tap echo

art deco

more, more

encore

melt in heat

feet fleet

heed the cry

within your blood

kick it high

rhythm found

pulsing sound

emancipate

before too late

body heat

wild feet

in the street.

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Profile avatar image for Mavia
Mavia

At the Estuary

We've been tapped cold

. . . floored . . .

feet loosed at the

entrance door

... global disco ...

clubbing

on the

diamond crusted

shore

. . .

Our tap shoes

make no sound

in the snows

but we still

tap our toes

. . .

There's a Spring

that's on tap

it's zapped us

in a trance

as we slip

laugh & dance

. . .

We tap out

from the frost

our old soles

once on ice

now on coals

. . .

We've been tapped cold

...floored...

feet loosed at this

entrance door

...global disco...

clubbing

on our

diamond studded

shore

. . .

#DancingAndTappingToes #Challenge

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Profile avatar image for Mnezz
Mnezz

Move to da beat!

With a booming sound..

Everyone gathered round~

Screaming out loud-

What a bizzare crowd!

Other folks tried to sleep,

But the flock of sheep...

Just couldn’t resist..

Nor desist.

It was a dance party.

Many showed up hearty,

While the parents are away-

The mayhem will stay.

One person next door-

Called Mr & Mrs Brodor...

’Your kids are dancing.

My dog won’t stop barkin!’

Mr and Mrs Brodor

Had placed a camera

Right by their front door

They could see it all

They dialed home

It went straight to voicemail

Soon they were on their way

Right back to the party

The parents heard the noise-

From the corner of the street

Unbelievable...this party~ would soon come to a halt.

Mr and Mrs Brodor-

Heard loud stomping of feet.

This was a strange thing to witness in their own home.

All dancing motions froze-

The minute the music stopped playing~

And the crowd left.

There in the living room-

The twins smiled...

Trying to act all innocent-

‘Welcome back home.’

Who’s idea was this?

Their parents asked.

‘Not mine.’

The girls replied.

Later in the night-

After all was calm & quiet.

A little robot was glad that it

Had a great dance party.

#MoveToDaBeat

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Profile avatar image for jboulette5671
jboulette5671

Words Like Stones Thrown

When we were three

My twin sister and me

My mother brought us to class

To clumsy to dance, we fell on our ass

Just barely walking

Our instructor baulking

Deemed us too clumsy

Decreed we'd never plie gracefully

Mother hung her head in shame

Her girls would never achieve dancing fame

Now, like a permanent marker dress

I wear my clumsy legged mess

Not so stubborn, it seems

I let another's words bend my dreams

I'm tapping my toes to all the good I can do

Even when I trip over my own shoe!!!

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Book cover image for A Collection of Poems
A Collection of Poems
Chapter 98 of 127
Profile avatar image for justaperson
justaperson

The Difference

I lace up my shoes, metal tapping the wooden floor,

a flap and shuffle to a time-step and wings,

pull backs and draw backs (yes there's a difference) for days,

from slow to fast, and the middle pace,

the metal taps turn to hardened and worn pointe shoes,

a grand battement to a grand jeté,

pirouettes and chaînés across the stage,

and a third arabesque en Croix to finish it off,

soft, pliable shoes now encompass my feet,

giving me a confident, sassy attitude,

fouette turns into a fan kick with a great big smile,

a turn of the head and into the splits,

tennis shoes on my feet, body loose,

sharp movements fast, followed by slow,

fast, quick, move to the beat of the rap,

sliding on the ground then back up at it,

my feet are now bare, feeling the hard wooden floor,

arms heavy, but light, skim across the ground as I hang over,

a pull from an invisible force send me upwards,

swinging and jumping with emotion throughout the stage,

and pulls me back to reality,

and that I am just one of the many dancers,

dancing at the convention, competition, or studio,

imagining what it would be like to be known for dancing

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Profile avatar image for JoResner
JoResner

Moves Like Clouds

In the deepest part of the forest,

I climbed a tall oak tree,

hidden, in secret,

to watch Isabella

dance in the rain.

With witchy grace,

she moved like the clouds,

piroueted across the forest floor,

dead leaves crunching

beneath her tender feet.

Oh, how I wish I could

whisper in her ear

to tell her she reminds me

of the ocean

during a storm,

a graceful disaster.

How she possesses

more power

than the flame

and more mystery

than the night.

How I wish she could

whisper to me

and tell me

the secrets

of her life.

-Jo Resner 2/19/18

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
SmartAlex

Dance sets me free

Dancing sets me free. It makes me feel beautiful, and like someone that I wish I could be. It helped me find myself. It helped me stay in control of my body, and it all started with tapping my toe.

My first love was music. I will forever feel as if I owe music everything for shaping my life. As my face grew tired from playing my trumpet for hours a day, my heart would want to play for hours. I would tap my toe to keep the tempo, but I was really tapping a long with the rhythm. I felt inspired to move with the music, and the toe taps turned into ballet.

I started very late, and my family did not have the funds to send me to classes. But when I took introduction classes at my high school I felt like I was physically showing the person that was trapped in my head. It came naturally. It felt right. It felt as if no one could hurt me. I'm not the perfect dancer, and people could pick my form apart. But at the end of the day I feel at home when I am dancing. It sets people free, and it is a gift that I will always cherish.

Challenge
Write about dancing and tapping your toes
Poetry or prose, any genre.
Profile avatar image for Vee
Vee

The Right to Dance

Dancing. A birth right. For all cultures, at all ages.

Some cultures say the first sound we hear is the beat of the drum, mother’s heartbeat. Conceived in rhythm, we gestate to the beat. Born to dance, we heed the call of music, naturally moving from our tapping toes to our nodding heads, hips shake, torsos sway, feet take us away.

Our dancing feet schooled for millennia by the deep beat of mother earth and nature’s rhythms should never be trapped in concrete beliefs that all things earthy equal vulgar, crude, raunchy and rude. Or relegated to weekend escapes induced by intoxication. Dancing should occur daily. Spontaneous and ritual, wild and spiritual, fun and practiced, spectacular and accessible.

One could say repressed rhythm is criminal.

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