gypsy lane

the sweet scent of lavender

in the hedgerows as i walk

a red fox dashes for cover

in the hollows in the cliffs of chalk .

.

in the old oak acre

smoke spirals into the atmosphere

the green and gold of her caravan

tells me gypsy rose is here .

.

wild raven hair

and smiling dark brown eyes

she beckons me with her finger

to disobey would be unwise .

.

she may be very elderly

but i know she'll bring me luck

if i go fetch her water

from the famous friars brook .

.

i struggle with the heavy bucket

but i do not spill a drop

i bid the lady ''farewell'

but she insists i stop .

.

she takes my hand in her hand

and in silence reads my palm

my heart pounds like thunder

but i know she means me no harm .

.

then she narrated a story

that did'nt seem to make sense

what does a ten year old know of heartbreak

or its dreadful consequence .

.

but i was to remain faithful to my convictions

and true love would find me

the purple of the lavender

held the clue to my destiny .

.

my grandma told me romany gypsies

were fantastic at reading future sign

and the sweet and tender rosie

had just predicted mine .

.

i  had so many heartaches

as into  a man i grew

but forever love eluded me

until darling i met you .