Dance On Winter

Dust sketching curlicues in the grey light,
Streaming through the window, soaking a chair
That I always thought was drab.
The dust falls; sits on the faded tan
Of the leather. The dust sat.
My teacup left my hand; plummets down to
Tabletop. Dust and steam dance
Curlicues in the draining light.
The dust and steam dance on winter.

FOLLOW US was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.


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