Circus Love Triangle

The fiddle player dreams
of a cartwheeling bandit
his rolls and turns are strong and graceful
her light hands hold with tenderness close
the steel strings, the new bow, a gift of affection
the gossamer sparks, a web of light splayed
as the small rapid fingers
are dancing in rays
as the evening sun lingers
she pines as she plays.

Her meek bright heart shutters
as chin clasps violin
a glint in her eye, as she watches him soar
the strongman's advances intense and denied
a circus love triangle, her fiddle their pace
but her one true love can with such ease turn a wheel
a flip-twisting full tuck
as she plays, his soul tilts
his tight landing stuck
as her dulcet tone lilts.