Danse you will to my “merry” tune
As midnight turns on this all hallows night
You will danse until this dark becomes dawns first light.
Danse my dead, my fiddle is tuned
Listen well to this my command
As hand by hand you take hold a circle to complete
Then faster, faster side step you will leap, leap, leap.
In the pale, pale moon and icy wind
Chalk white bones did whirl
The sound striking – bone on bone
Heard louder and louder above the fiddles drone.
They moved in time never missing a beat
Until the cockerel crowed
A summons back to deaths long sleep
Until next year – lovers parting kiss and weep.
The dead may sleep but deaths work goes on
Drawing more danser’s near
Is this too where we will one day awake?
To his fiddle and danse macabre – or is this just a superstitious
fear?
By Natasha
© 2007 Natasha Forder
© 2007 Natasha Forder
This poem is based on one of my favourite pieces of
classical music; Danse Macabre by Saint-Saëns, which takes the poem of the same name by Henri Cazalis as its setting. I wrote this poem for a Halloween theme night
that Basingstoke Writers Circle hosted.
I think this is a fab poem - very impressed that you wrote this.
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