Bill Simmons

Gypsy Born

Poem by Bill Simmons

He walked up to the parlor
Where he had never been before
The sign it said psychic readings
Just above the door

He never believed this sort of thing
He was curious and was bored
As he walked in someone met him
A young woman, Gypsy born

Pools of green
Like he had never seen
Scarfs adorned
Gypsy born

When he saw her face
His heart began to race
For he could not have imagined
Such a beauty in such a place

When he saw her eyes
He was taken by surprise
For something was about her
The pools of green of her eyes

He said I'm sorry but I must leave
This sort of thing I don't believe
She said I understand
But then she touched his hand

But since you're here anyway
Let me see what I can see
Then she opened his trembling palm
Then began to read

As she looked upon his palm
She sighed and said, Oh my
And without another single word
Then she began to cry

Did I do something wrong? he said
I don't understand
She said, No, you did not
It is in the hand

The hand it tells that you're a gentle man
It tells of life and of what you're searching for
It tells of this day that brought you here
And that today you'll search no more

It says one day you'll have a daughter
In your eyes she will be so adored
For she will look just like her mother
Scarfs adorned, Gypsy born

Pools of green, like he had never seen
Scarfs adorned, Gypsy born
So it comes, as is destiny
In the pools of green, of the Gypsy born

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Read poems about / on: green, destiny, sorry, daughter, believe, today, woman, mother, beauty, women

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 3, 2004

Poem Edited: Wednesday, November 3, 2004