Gypsy, My Gypsy

Satin, moonlit ribbon
beneath our feet.
It is healing - this road -
meandering and waving along . . .
off into the night.

I caught a glimpse of Venus in your eyes.
Your face so pale . . . so ivory divine.
Gypsy, gypsy mine -
so clever - your disguise.
(I know you are the devil of the Silver Tree)

And there - we will pitch our tents . . .
among the silvery trees.

And like the bells upon our ankles -
and the bangles upon our wrists . . .
We will hang our pots and pans-
upon the branches and the mists.

And we will beckon all the travelers to come.
Yes - we will beckon all the travelers to come.

Gypsy, gypsy mine -
so clever - your disguise.
(I know you are the devil of the Silver Tree)

Gypsy, my Gypsy.

© Katsa
June 20.2010