“Love’s Most Perfect Dance”


This was a poem I wrote back in 2003 for my Core when I was a Core Advisor back at Teen Mania.  It was in honor of them, really, for Valentine’s Day.  Gosh, I remember spending forever on this, praying for something good I could write for them (since I was super duper short on cash and had no other gifts to give them.)  It resurfaced today when I was going through some old things on a book shelf and I thought it was good enough to share.  I think this was probably the last poem I wrote.  I hope you enjoy!!

 

Love’s most Perfect Dance

 

The gentle fog rolls across the sand, enveloping this woman and this man.

They stand hand in hand, eyes locked in a gaze, 

Peering into the deepest parts of their souls, astounded, astonished, and amazed.

The gentle splish and splash of the foamy waves engulf their feet

The seagulls speak softly, their overhead presence discreet.

The sun rests it’s brilliant head on the outstretched horizon,

Brilliant colors creep forth: orange, red, gold, all brazen.

Their silhouette is captivating; tender and unrelenting.

The passion in their eyes so contained, yet quietly exploding and penetrating.

He softly lifts his hand to her face; her knees seem to quake.

And as he parts his lips to speak, breathlessly, she waits.

He forms his words carefully, speaking with utmost convict

And in a moment she drops to her knees, healing tears down her cheek quietly slip.

He lovingly stoops to the ground and lifts her to her feet.

He places hers on his and whispers, “Dance with me.”

They slowly spin and sway, with perfectly angelic ease,

He leans in and whispers soft, entreating her with this plea:

“When all the world has stopped the music of this dance,

you step back onto my feet and let my love enhance…

Where you once were rejected, I long to embrace.

Where you once were unworthy, I lavish my grace.

Where you once were forgotten, you are always on my mind.

You’re my perfect and Pleasing One; you are my waited for Bride!”

She lifts her face to his, gaze steady and entranced, 

And whispers, “My Savior, my King.  Please, teach me to dance.”

 

-Jenilee Lott 2/14/03

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