Fleeting Gypsy

What happened to me,
the fleeting Gypsy,
who's soul never changes
yet always rearranges?
A heart for all I know.
A spirit on the go.
The wind will take me there,
with rain I stop and stare.
For a time I'm with you,
through a mirror, I see a view
of a time almost forgotten
of a Gypsy silk lace and cotton,
still trying to be free,
yet held by pieces of me
which attached to my needs
of life, love and greed's.
What happened to me,
the fleeting Gypsy,
who's soul never changes
yet always rearranges?
 

Reviews

[Moonflower]

This had a beautiful and unique rhyme scheme and the concept was relatable and emotional, for me. Well done, I enjoyed this piece immensely, dear

[Coyote Poetry]

I knew some Gypsies when I was station in Germany in 1977-1980. They could cook and knew laughter. Hard to hold on to the Gypsy soul in this world. I believe we need less possessions and more time to celebrate being alive. I like the feel and the desire of your poem. A excellent poem.
Coyote