Many years ago, when I was very young,
And my brain was filled with unimportant schemes,
When walking in our village I saw a lad, with black,
Black curly hair; he filled my mind with dreams.

I asked my friend Sally, if she knew this fella.
“Yes,” she said, “they say he’s keen on dancing."
I went home to ask my sister, if she would,
Teach me to Waltz, instead of my usual prancing.

In a matter of just a few days, I could Waltz,
Then the quick step I started to learn,
My sister said we should go to a dance,
My mother was there to confirm.

On Friday we put on our glad rags, to go
To dance at the Palais de Glide.
I was excited and shy, just a bit, but not
Too shy, with my sister by my side.

I glanced round the room at the crowds, and saw
That lad, with the black curly hair.
My sister and I saw other people we knew.
I sat down, I just didn’t want to stare.

Within half an hour, the lad stood before me,
And asked if I’d like to Tango.
"I can’t Tango, I can Waltz, and Foxtrot" I said.
"Other dances I know, I can do an impressive Fandango."

He turned to my sister, and at her he smiled.
She held out her hand, to be led to the floor.
They tango’d they waltzed, and they danced all the night.
 I wished I’d dared to tango, that’s for sure.

© Kathy McKay Sinclair