Gypsy Wilds

Once upon a crystal ball in splendor Well within the confines of the tent Where light is not your friend Slender fingers of the gorgeous girl Using only wavering motions Hover just above the glowing orb Conjuring up the future from the past By simply trembling into a formal trance When the gypsy opens up her blazing eyes Filled with wisdom from the ages left behind She speaks in a crabby crackly voice That of an old witch we wish we didn’t know And tells you what you want to know Gypsy places a warm hand upon your face Holds out the other palm up in front of you Says, “That will be one dollar!” as she gazes Not into the future but at the entrance way And hollers, “Next!”