Rain Is a Gypsy
Rain is a gypsy we once knew,
singing her melancholy songs.
A restless nomad, quickly flew,
left crystal tears to wish upon.
Swirling skirts in dry river bed,
rain is a gypsy we once knew.
Danced in trees near a watershed,
as she coaxed clouds to spill anew.
Lassoed an early breeze that blew
her perfume followed where she went.
Rain is a gypsy we once knew,
yet precious raindrops she but leant.
We wait for her to ride in skies,
a flash of skirts in lilac-blue.
Lightning afire in silver eyes,
rain is a gypsy we once knew.
August 30, 2022
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2022
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