Gypsy Dance Poem by elizabeth wesley

Gypsy Dance

Rating: 5.0


Climb up the hill where gypsies hide,
And breathe on the wind of a restless tide;
Where notes of sorrow from a violin,
Cry out to the night from a heart within.

The day is dim and night is alive,
And gypsies dance like bees in a hive;
They spin and turn while the fire burns bright,
And sparks fly up to kiss the night.

Old men sit while weaving a tale,
While young men sit drinking their ale;
And the fires of night flicker and glow,
While the winds of night moan and blow.

They dance too fast, they dance too far;
They follow the light of a fallen star;
But there in the sky a sickle shaped moon,
Dances with gypsies in the fires of June.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Robert Beck 31 December 2011

Well written story, rhyme and flow, your talent shines thru, worth a ten from me.

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