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!”
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