Guernsey Barn (dance) - Vic Gamble

Dandy air strolled,
      gatecrashed
his rude way in.
        Straw
long leg flimsy,
slimline stalked,
danced her dance
& spun wind caught
toppled out those whiffle
popsy steps,
of a shy girl cornered
    in a Camelot.
Black,slow,fly
    Fat
with past suns,
now cataleptic cold;
    Merlin
wands of moon,
transfusing filters
on his wings of silver white
of fading light,
for his buzzing
      season’s old.
Quick-eyed
And unsure as dice
      Mice
like Lancelots,
will chance a lot
      to bossa-nova
by the cracklight.

Vic Gamble