There are Gypsies -C



There are gypsies
bejeweled and smiling
They're camped out across the way,
A little crude they are in orange and red,
touch of black,shine of silver
They sparkle like rain
They crackle like fire
Their music is lively-
goes down like wine,
They really mean what they say
and they run hot and lusty,
dancing brightly
fearing nothing-
and feel they have a world
wherever they go,
Their home on their back
strumming their freedom,
Their music always befriends,
Singing as they do with such abandon,
I would follow,if I were near as free,
So, my mind wanders with them
in their raggedy caravan,
chasing the wind
down the dark lonely road
unafraid
until they are 
lost.

phoebe


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