She’s an invention of your own imagination,
the departing footsteps of her ringing laughter
rippling through your past
and her heavy-lidded eyes darkly auguring your future.
She knows all the sodden tea-leaves of your life –
each cup sipped down to the dregs –
and has shared in every drunken brawl.
She’s the freedom you’ve never known
and the captivity of all your prejudice;
she’ll cross your palm with heather
and spit a curse on your disdain.
She taunts you with every bare-foot,
loose-breasted squeeze
and comforts you with her harvest-moon heart.
Look for her and she’ll be gone but
cast her aside and she’ll leave her tell-tale,
sticky fingerprints in the DNA of all your days.
She belongs to everyone and no-one
but your secret soul is her birth right.
Ha! This is superb and works with imagery so well. There is such a natural motion to the way of her, to her errands of each day and night. From shadow to light and all the deep treasure in the rubble, just in all of it.
Beautifully magical writing xo
Gypsy and consciousness meld into each other. I like the ethereal and at times palpable imagery. It seems somebody is playing "Suzanne" (Leonard Cohen), and you end up in a world where "she" is personable and unknown at the same time. You have maintained a perfect thematic balance...
Gypsy Rosie Katie: Hmmm, a Romany diva. My thoughts turn to stardust - the film, that is. Be careful what you cross this lassies palm with. Reminds me of a brill' song. (Girl on the Phone) Keep playing in the heather even in this summer watery weather.
We all have gypsies, who are we to judge each and one of us.. Might as well have our gypsies let loose for a night.. That would be something to remember.. Great poem..
Dear Kate you have once again stirred the wanderlust in my soul. The carefree life of a gypsy is a wish of us all. Wandering from town to town, living from hand to mouth. Surely most of us could not stand the uncertainty of that kind of freedom that comes with not only benefits, but peril as well. Men of each towns drawn to her full breasts and hips that sway seductively. Wives in every town hate her because she is a fantasy of husbands, and yes leave her or not she will leave sweet sticky fingerprints that last forever.
A most enjoyable write...Loved it all three times I read it.
I do see a metaphorical side to this as well.
As a PS did you know that Hitler not only hated Jews, but Gypsies as well?
You got me in love with her already! For not hearing from you in a long time, you descend on us with a masterpiece of psychology. How did you know that I have a gypsy in my soul?
~Kate~
The tambourine and colorful attire of the "Gypsy." You have brought
her to life. Gazing aura mysterious yet fascinating.
Love the gypsy in you dear Kate.
Ed Phillips said it so very well, Kate, kind of like I have always wanted to say it but did not know how...I am so happy when I see you have stopped by to post something and while here commented on something I have written...it always thrills me to see your name on one of my reviews...stop by more often...and bring your "gypsy" side along with you... <smile> -e-
Imaginative and you wrapped a piece of her into my DNA too. You created this and then scribed it with the passion of preparing an old family recipe to share with your inner circle of friends. It is delicious and sating while leaving a bit of mystery for the reader. Thank you for being the perfect host at your reading gala. May peace and love be always with you my dear friend. Jon Michael
I am so pleased that anyone came along and gave the poetry pages of AD a needed lift to a place where words, and thoughts, and ideas, and imagination reign supreme. I would have accepted such a lift from anyone, but I am so glad that one of the most gifted writers of us all supplied the wit, the charm, and the magic to the task and scored 20 on a 10 point scale. Bravo!
I've lived with the bitch/wondrous woman all of my life, Kate. She is still here in my later years and has decided, I guess, to leave me to living without her interference, for my time is probably short. So yeah, she has been with me through "all the sodden tea-leaves of your(my) life," and is giving me peace at this time in my life or is really cooking up a real barnstorming finale for "moi." Great poetry . . .
This is so on the mark for anyone's imagination venturing into such zestful thoughts. I've never read such a perfect depiction of the idea, as well as the reality, of gypsy. Kudos...and good to see more of your writing. Always a pleasure to read and contemplate. Thank you.
Kate darling,
I feel like you wrote this about me. I feel like a gypsy sometimes and you hit the nail on the head with your words!
I loved your last six lines the most!
As always you bring fantastic imagery and meaningful words to your work!
Much peace and love
Amber
From First Love to its destructive end and on to new beginnings, Mary Angela Nangini's poems explore the birth and death of a relationship. The powerful poems are presented in two parts with an introduction to her next book My Ontario Beautiful. (Th
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
Beautifully magical writing xo
A most enjoyable write...Loved it all three times I read it.
I do see a metaphorical side to this as well.
As a PS did you know that Hitler not only hated Jews, but Gypsies as well?
Walt
Ron
Regis
The tambourine and colorful attire of the "Gypsy." You have brought
her to life. Gazing aura mysterious yet fascinating.
Love the gypsy in you dear Kate.
Lady Mary Ann
So happy to see you posting again.
I feel like you wrote this about me. I feel like a gypsy sometimes and you hit the nail on the head with your words!
I loved your last six lines the most!
As always you bring fantastic imagery and meaningful words to your work!
Much peace and love
Amber