Gypsy juggling all the way
Broken thoughts, fates' shackles - away.
A colourful wagon drives my home
Cheery me is people’s fantasy gnome.
I sing from pages of my travel trove
Those surely make ‘least animals groove.
A wanderer and lover of the country side
I swing by brooks in my Romany pride.
Children dream of my dreamy tales
I rest with the winds where moonlight trails.
I chant the song of life for the worried class
They call me a jester and let my lesson pass.
I am blissful on the inside and on the out
I let my steps wander without freckles of doubt.
There is so much more and so much less
For a wanderer like me, the world is my palace.
I take a turn and then go straight
Then a small spring and some castle’s gate;
Kings and queens let people see me
As a far land being, with magic worth a peek!
Kings are gone but I still roam
No pride but a trip to find some dome
Where old still breathe, the magical days
I am a gypsy and will be, but now need to find my place.
p.s.- picture courtesy google :)