by Leonard Keigher

Created on: September 06, 2010

Giacometti danced in the middle of the night

Always in the dark and never with a light... 

He jingled and he clanged in that loosely jointed way

and all his friends every day, could be heard to say...

“Giacometti, Giacometti!....Dear you look so tired!...

You better speed your work up or soon you will be fired!”

But.... 

Giacometti dreamed and when he dreamed he danced...

He thought he was Quixote looking for romance.

Dreaming here!

then

Dreaming there!

Lost in thoughts and losing hair!

“Work harder! Giacometti! 

It's the only way!” 

Once again his many friends had to have their say!

First he was in France

Then he was in Spain

He moved and he talked like he didn't have a brain...

All the time inside his soul he was in the dance.

He drank his coffee standing up and lost the game of chance, 

And then one day he woke up out of that endless trance, 

And Giacometti found that he had lost the will to dance.

He woke up and spoke up and lost his mystery... 

Today old Giacometti just stands there like a tree!

“Oh Giacometti, Giacometti please begin your prance! 

We all want to join you in your living dance!”

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