My Gypsy Guide
She dances in the moonlight’s rays,
her tambourine, joyously plays;
in swirling, twirling, color schemes,
she is a gypsy who interprets dreams.
A gifted child this bright young woman,
seventh daughter of a seventh one;
born upon the thirteenth day,
in the gentle month of May.
I know her well, she’s a friend, you see;
for she has done so much for me.
Her caravan travels many roads,
there’s hoards of stories, she has told.
When I see her coming ‘round,
I know over tea, dreams she’ll expound;
Lavinia Grey, that is her name,
she is the keeper of her clan’s flame.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
