Turkish Dancer In a Cafe'

At Cafe Casablanca

Sits a beautiful show

In this show

There's a beautiful dancer

With hair as dark as midnight

As the audience sits

A circle forms

Textiles of bountiful colors

surrounds the room

The scents of the Middle East

Smoke of Frankincense rises in the air

The music plays

An unfamiliar tune starts

An upbeat drum solo fills the room

A Turkish dancer

With wonderful grace and poispoise|_Garments of fine silks

Hugs her every curve

Beads, baubles, and metal disks

Form around her waist

They clank with every move

Drowning out the sounds

As she spins

The shiny disks catch the light

As her garments fly about

As the dancer takes her final bow

Very mysterious

Yet never forgotten

Was her dance

From the Middle East