Dancing Day

 I am a hippie and a thug,

and an accomplished dancer,

so watch me while I cut a rug

as I waltz with cancer.

We sashay 'cross the parquet floor

as the band plays on.

My partner herds me towards the door,

but it's not time I'm gone,

for sure not while the grace notes ring,

and mirror-ball shines bright,

and not while my heart can bring

all love and strength into the fight.

I know one day the end must come,

but until then, I'm having fun.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is CHOOSE. Easy.

On this day I choose to dance,

choose to whirl and pirouette,

and though it feels I have no chance,

this is not over yet.

On this day I choose to smile,

for frowning is a bummer,

and if I last a little while

I'll see another summer.

On this day I choose to write

about the Lord, who is my friend,

with whom I rather tight,

and on whom I depend.

And on this day I choose to laugh;

God's asked me for my autograph!

Two minutes thirty-seven.

Ah, why not. Dancing Queen!

Sylvia will dance for ice cream.