Twirling

Twirling is underestimated.

Music plays and I begin to twirl,
my skirt billowing around me,
your laughter filling my ears,
and I can believe we’re free
when I dizzily fall into your arms.

Twirling is underestimated.

My hand twirling in a pond
making ripples spiral and pour
like dominoes along the water,
until you take my hand in yours
and make ripples in my heart instead.

Twirling is underestimated.

Your finger twirling round my hair
making golden locks go astray
and curl into tiny ringlets,
just rolling your eyes when I say
that I only just straightened it.

Twirling is underestimated.

The world is twirling as you say goodbye
then walk away, leaving me.
And I know that my hair will stay straight,
the river will stay serene,
and nobody will catch me next time I fall.

Still twirling.