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Fire Waltz
A flickering dance of smoke and flame,
To put the most skilled ballerina to shame.
Ever moving, they never grow cold,
In an age old waltz that never grows old.
Timelessly leaping, never truly sleeping.
To always revolve, a burning resolve.
Dressed in red and jewelled in gold,
A mask of black to darken the folds.
Spattered blue when even hotter,
Streaking white like a lily's daughter.
Rubies and sapphires, jewels of the fire,
A shining cascade, to light up the shade.
A fierce refrain, an elegant twirl,
Around their partners, the flames do curl.
A twisting release, they only part,
To join again, their dancing hearts.
The flames they swirl, sails of scarlet unfurl.
The breeze stops now, the partners bow.
Turns of gold and darkened spins,
Embers scattered on whirlwinds.
Too hot, too fierce, their only faults,
We cannot join the Fire Waltz.
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