Silver coins that jingle jangle,
Fancy shoes that danced in time,
Exposed the secrets of your dark eyes,
Once you sang your gypsy rhyme.
Yellow clover in tangled blossoms,
In a meadow of silky green,
Where once you held me to your bosom,
Lord, you were just a girl of seventeen.
I fondly recall that gypsy woman,
Silver spangles in her eyes,
Ivory skin, against the moonlight,
And the taste of life's sweet wine.
Soft breezes blow, from fragrant meadows,
Stir the memories in my mind,
Oh gentle woman you slept beside me,
And little know who haunts my mind.
Gypsy lady I hear your laughter,
and it dances in my head,
My tender wife, though no more lover,
Slumbers softly in our bed.
Copyright © 2013 -
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