Gypsies
With their green flashing eyes and their raven black hair,
They’re back in the village now.
The Gypsies and foreign folk selling their wares,
They’re back in the village again.
They set up their bright stalls in our market square,
Remember the last time love.
The sharp tang of spices and herbs in the air,
Remember the last time they came.
The men sell elixirs of beauty and charm,
Five years ago my love.
To tempt the young ladies from village and farm,
Five years since the last time they came.
Their children in rags with no shoes on their feet,
Remember the child my love.
The young women dancing for coins in the street,
The child who was stolen away.
A woman in shawls telling fortunes and fates,
They claimed they were innocent.
Lines form by her tent where the gullible wait,
Said that they had not seen him that day.
Strange stories are spun by the campfire at night,
We both must be strong my love.
The flames distort faces with their leaping light,
Though their presence here causes us pain.
When their trading is done they will pack up and leave,
And we’ll carry on, my love.
Though we know it will give us but scanty reprieve,
Till the day that they come back again.
All Works are © Original Author
(OC Author - Bria McAllister)