Gathered one behind one
they came in a herd
throughout the village
wagon wheels heard,
the clanging of pots
the clinging of tin
staring I was in bewilderment
when I noticed him.

They searched the fields
for borrowed land
they settled down
gathered in camp,
daily I watched
infatuated by them
no" I tell a lie,
I was with him.

Just like the others
he laughed and danced in the night
thoughts of him chased me
followed him I did, to keep him in sight.
Unnoticed I watched
like a lurker in the bush,
unable to control
my burning lust.

He bathed in the lake
watching again unseen by him
fantasies crossing my mind
as my eyes bore into his skin.

With a blink from my eye
he was gone from the lake
my heart skipped a beat
when I heard the twig break,
there he stood naked
with eyes as black as coal
he see's and upon me
frees my gypsy soul.

The wagon wheels tins and pots
we heard come in daylight,
yet not a sound to be heard
when they left in the dead of the night.
Regret? or feel shame?
how could I not at tall
instead I'm forever grateful
to the gypsy who answered my call.