A Gypsy Song
On the edge of the forest I saw her for the first time,
with just a glimpse as she lured me
and maybe it was just my imagination
playing tricks with my mind.
Where the ferns grow knee-high
and the wild orchids bloom
I saw her again
but I wondered did I?
Where the leaves felt like a carpet under my feet
I walked deeper into the forest
and I saw her again
but this time she lingered a little bit longer
as she played hide and seek with my mind.
When there is an open spot in the forest
where the sun came to play
a new world opened right in front of my eyes,
flowers bloomed everywhere
and I saw their caravans painted in beautiful colours,
many girls dancing in the sunlight
singing the most breathtaking song
while even the birds did silence themselves
and they were dressed in white tops and flamboyant skirts
with raven black hair hanging in locks over their shoulders.
This scene was so lovely as if the heavens did open
and I witnessed angels singing
but then I saw that girl again
as she came to me with the hope of life in her eyes
and she handed me a bunch of wild orchids,
smiling and her eyes were the colour of jade.
Amazed I closed my eyes for a single moment
and as I opened them everything was gone.
Only the fragrance of wild orchids and a single bangle
on the ground did remain
and I did wondered
if this was just part of my imagination?
Daleen Enslinstrydom's Other Poems
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RoseAnn V. Shawiak
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(30 October 1885 – 1 November 1972)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
- WH Auden