Danse Macabre

Death came to me in a mini skirt
As skittish as a kitten,
And said: “I am come for your final flirt”,
But added: “You don't seem smitten”.

Says I: “Well - not in my wildest whim
Did I picture you looking like this,
I'd been told that you were a reaper grim
And behold - a saucy miss”.

“Ah - many a one is like yourself
Surprised by my winning smile,
I have jokes and jests like a playful elf
And I know the way to beguile.”

“But please - just pass me by with a nod
I've poems and plays unwritten,
There are footpaths I have never trod
As you say - I'm not much smitten.”

“Oh hush my darling - and don't repine”,
And she gave a gracious prance,
Then she twined her fingers into mine
And whispered: “Shall we dance ?”