Musings by The Poet Loriet

Arabian Night's At Pava's House

Standing in a chorus line,
rainbows of color emanating
from Egyptian hip wraps
laden with jingling coins,
we listen for our cue.
 
Exotic melody  
spills into the room,
pounds thick with adrenaline
through our pulsating veins--
 
Yet, it is our souls
that ignite
as we trill a primal
"I am woman"
Zaguerite
that would send chills
down unsuspecting spines
of an audience,
glued to this moment.
 
We twirl in round robin,
coins clinking,
hips swishing,
hands rippling--
silk scarves flashing
through energy-laden air.
 
Our loosely-flowing Harem pants
dance lightly around our legs
as we bounce through
our Arabian walk.
 
Joining arms in a large circle, we
 
         F     L      Y
 
through the traditional Greek dabke,
whirling, twirling, spinning, giggling~
then back into line,
shaking our hips sharply
in a tick-tock rhythm,
ending our explosion  
of sound and color.
 
We pause, ready to dazzle,
as we soften our abdomens
into a traditional belly dance.
 
In this moment,
we are no longer...
 
mothers
 
daughters
 
wives
 
sisters...
 
We are women,
dancing the sultry beat
that sings to us
from within our souls.
 
 
Lori Beal


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Arabian Night`s At Pava`s House

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