Ode to Shadya, the Bellydancer

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By: Tewdrig Posted on: October 26, 2006

As a quiet winter's night hangs over the City,
I button my coat, and come "as I am"
To a tucked-away corner of Tensmis Road
And the jovial bar with the sign of the Ram.

I nod my horns to Sir Lance, my hoof-brother,
As I walk briskly in from the cold.
I search out the back room, aglow with candles,
Reach into my pack, and withdraw my gold.

Oh no, my dear friends, I am not here for chess!
Let the knight's charger chomp at the bit.
Exotic beauty's my reason for traveling;
A lady endowed with magic and wit.

"Looking for anything in particular?" she asks.
I smirk as only a true Satyr can.
"A show, my dear lady." I hand her the sovereigns.
She beams a bright smile as the gold hits her hand.

The music, quite sultry in rhythm, begins.
Shadya's almond-shaped eyes lock with mine.
The circular charms on her waist, head, and ankles
Merrily jingle as her body keeps time.

The veils which cover her feminine form
Are colourful gossamer bits of a dream
Torn from some lovers' minds deep in slumber.
No stitch, no hem, not even a seam.

As I sit watching, she tugs on a veil,
Dark blue as an alpine sky in late spring,
Revealing her face, her neck and her shoulder.
Somewhere above me I hear angels sing.

A lavender veil she removes from its tether.
Her flat, smooth stomach appears underneath.
The soft curve of her hip glows warmly as she
Tosses a red veil just past my reach.

My breath comes in gulps as her magic takes over.
Veils, green and yellow, fall to the floor.
Her long, tan legs like pythons are swaying.
But never you fear, of veils there are more!

I can't spoil the ending, that wouldn't be fair.
No, you're not going to hear it from me.
Her art, she has mastered. She won't disappoint.
This beautiful dancer is a must-see.

I bow to dear Shadya and gather my things.
I exit the chamber of the Dancing Queen. Wave to Lance, grab a flagon, march myself home;
I'm happy to live in exotic Cyrene.