The World of Gypsies

The Gypsy caravans,

rolled into the village square,

with prancing horses,

the band of Gypsies –

so colorful and proud.

Eager for another night of festivities,

showing the people their talents,

the Gypsy men so dark and handsome,

the Gypsy women like porcelain dolls.

The old Gypsy women ready,

to tell fortunes and sell trinkets.

The Gypsy men ready to spin tales,

the young women ready to dance

and the young men looking for romance.

They all rolled into the village,

looking for a place to set up their caravans,

they were looked upon with suspicion –

so misunderstood were they.

The Gypsies were mysterious,

but they weren’t evil,

they wanted to entertain

and make some money too.

The Mayor allowed them to stay,

in a wooded clearing beyond the town,

there they set their caravans round

and prepared for when the night would come.

There was Magda the best fortune teller,

old Ramos whose trinkets of silver were handmade,

Clarissa the dark-haired beauty with flashing eyes,

who danced so very fine.

There were more than a dozen Gypsies,

ready for a night of song and dance,

they built a bonfire,

awaiting the full moon.

As the twilight fled,

the clearing was lit with candles and lanterns,

the light was dim and romantic,

the bonfire sending sparks into the night.

Beyond the clearing, the full moon shone brightly

and the wolves in the surrounding mountains began to howl.

The village people so thrilled and excited,

hurried to see what the Gypsies would offer

It was a night of thrill and excitement,

of magic and violin music and dance.

Everyone was in awe,

as Magda told her predictions.

Then came the best part of all,

Clarissa stood in a circle,

before the blazing bonfire

and she began to dance.

Cymbals crashing, the violin louder and faster,

now there was a Gypsy band

and as they began to play,

Clarissa danced as she had never danced before.

The twirl of her rainbow skirts,

black hair flying,

everyone held their breath,

it seemed she’d twirl forever and ever.

The villagers were caught up,

in the Gypsy life,

a night of mystery

and true romance.

With regret the night was fleeting,

so quickly it all came to an end

and before the sun rose in the sky –

the Gypsy caravans rolled out of sight.

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Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

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