The dancing little boy

Breathy vapour clouds, like spent dragon fire

erupt upon the square,

tinged with spiced wine

as we all stop and stare

at the dancing little boy.

Colours bright saturate wood and canvas stalls

make play for our sight,

with paint winter scenes

 that can’t compete tonight

with the dancing little boy.

Sweet treats and bread cakes filled with pork

might as well be free

because nobody cares

we just want to see

the dancing little boy.

For that is Christmas there in that small child

and smiles all agree

 many presents should lie

under the tinselled tree

for the dancing little boy.


  1. You had me at ‘breathy vapour clouds’. I find this to be very tender. It also puts me in a bit of a holiday mood. The scene you’ve created with such thoughtful artistry is everything poetry should be. Well done.


    1. The inspiration came from once seeing a little fellah at a fair, stood mesmerised by a gaudy bright steam organ for a few minutes and then slowly began to dance, oblivious to everybody and soon crowds just stopped and smiled. The sense of love, joy and peace was amazing. Another of my life’s peak experiences.

      Liked by 1 person

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