The Glamour of Gypsies (2 - rewrite)

Tambourines with their evening beckoning

through the distances of timely roads echoing

the memory of fires celebrating another sky fat with stars

I only have the bare blush of a breeze

storyteller on my skin to my mind, like fireflies

lifting into the darkening midnight

my yearning for the exquisite sybaritism of love's answers

only through its notice - can I see here

blaze of horizon, my hope for its malleability

lovelorn and lackluster.

 

I witness the bright tangerines and reds fade to deeper blues

then starlit dreaming dark imbues, traveling story fortunes and joyful fool Read the bones of life to seek the hearts' clues No cards to spread, no secret that is closer to the truth Dance with the fire when it gets dark, glamor is the warm light of her smile.