GIPSY LOVE.

You will marry Sir Basil of Mear my darling,
In June you will hear the wedding bells ring,
All was arranged between him and Papa,
Tomorrow you go to his mansion afar.

But Mama he is old, I do not love him,
I’ll just be there for his every whim,
I’m full of life and he is so dull,
Of sadness my life will surely be full.

Cheer up my dear, he has money galore,
If not him, at least all his riches adore,
The ring he has for you is a large ruby,
A dress of pure silk, well dressed you’ll be.

With heavy heart she rode off the next day,
Leaving all those she loved to go far away,
To a mansion so grand, yet no love at all
In that beautiful building, cold and tall.

They ate dinner each at the far end of the table,
Normal conversation to carry not able,
When they at last spoke, he kissed her hand,
The cold look in his eyes knew no love found.

At the end of May the gipsies came to town,
Rachel had put on a brand new gown,
Even Sir Basil showed a hint of a smile,
As off for a walk she went for awhile.

At the edge of the woods, near a curve in the drive,
The gipsies had camped, they were so much alive,
The men doffed their hats, the girls curtsied low
As passing them all as she so gracefully did go

Their eyes met, hers and the handsome gipsy boy,
Her heart fluttered and at last knew some joy,
He offered her a bunch of tulips and she smiled
As their hands touched, then her heart went wild.

Every night they met under a clear starry sky,
Come away with us, from this lovely prison fly,
We have a love that’s special, we two so far apart
In the ways of the world, please don’t break my heart.

The following night at dinner with it’s usual cold,
She tried to tell Sir Basil that he was too old,
But he didn’t really listen, said is that so my dear,
We will work it out when your head is more clear.

At the stroke of midnight she crept down the stairs,
Opened the door quietly, soon love would be theirs,
All she carried were her own belongings in a sack,
As light as a feather she ran, never looking back.

They married in a church quite a few miles away,
She did not have a silk dress on her wedding day,
Her flowers were wild, picked fresh that morn,
No finery or jewels did her graceful body adorn.

Yet her heart sang with laughter, eyes full of joy,
For she had run away to marry her gipsy boy,
A brass ring on her finger, deep love in her heart,
Happy along the rough road of life, doing her part.

Many years later they returned to where they met,
She wondered if Sir Basil of Mear had married yet,
She saw the mansion as she walked along the lane,
Something was different, it didn’t seem quite the same.

As they came closer, the building was empty and bare
The grounds all overgrown, no flowers growing there.
It seems that old Sir Basil was not so rich after all,
He wanted a wife with money to save him from the fall.

Oh how glad she was that she had followed her love,
Instead of marrying a greedy man who could not love,
They had enough to buy the place it was going for a song,
They wanted to go on roaming, being in one place is wrong.

I know I would follow my heart like Rachel did years ago,
For love is what keeps me alive, so all away I would throw
To be with the one I love, leave success and riches behind,
For when true love strikes no greater gift will you find.

M Ann Margetson © December 31, 1999
99POEMS/Gipsylove

Front PageAchievement, Pain & SorrowAnimalsChriistmas and the SaviourFamilyTemplesNatureReligionPot-Pourri