(Photo by Mark Dadswell/Getty Images)

I wait, rehearsing the steps in my mind
At the end of the runway, the bar, as a taunting rival, silently stands
Even daring to touch the object of my dreams
I lift my eyes to the deep blue beckoning of my tantalizing partner.

The music begins...

Like a charger-mounted knight, I raise the lance
Fair Lady waits with a wink of romance
If strength and form come together perchance
The sky and the rider will embrace in the dance

Planting the pole, it bends like a hickory bow
I lay back, thrusting feet upward at the bow's release
Straight as an arrow, into a handstand I twist, six meters high
Then, as a jackknife closing, over the bar

Releasing the pole, on my partner entranced
I pass over my rival with nary a glance
When the aerie Lady and I join hands
For the briefest of moments, ours is the dance

The music fades...

As if torn from a lover, I fall back to earth
The lingering fragrance, the fading notes, sustain my joy a little longer
Then the cheers remind me: the crowd sees only a jilted rival
They know nothing of the sky dance. Just as well...

Secrecy only sweetens its beauty.

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