A Chance of A Dance By the Lake

S U MM E R N I G H TS

have a certain rhythm to them,

like flapping wings.

Bonfires inspire,

musing soft things

to pull on strings.

Sing

a love song to ME

under the SPOTLIGHT

of the MOONLIGHT.

I might...

despite my spite for late romance.

You could... 

change the fact that I don't like to dance.

M U S I C

is not played by chance.

We both have noted circumstance

under the stars.

Our feet are dipped in silent, shallow waters;

hearts E C H O E D out to mars.