DANCING SONNETS

In dreams I waltz through crystal concert rooms
where orchestras meld symphonies from harps
with verse in rhyme, like poets' crafty looms
crisscross a minor key with flats and sharps.
Altos and tenors echo strong refrains
in strict pentameter iambic feet.
The strong descriptive lines flow through quatrains
of woven words to music's steady beat.
No click of metronomes in sundry times.
I quote the lines and step the meter's dance,
I trap the tempo's twinkle in the rhymes,
a self same sounds and combination stance.
When masters merge a script within a chant
they rival canvas strokes of Rembrandt's slant.