Gingered faced gypsy.

Ginger faced gypsy,
your jingling feet fascinates me

In each little jingle
a sweet secret dwells
Like copper pots dropping
into a deep dark well.

Your hair like beehives
curls through your veils.
Your shinning marble eyes;
your Bulbul voice.

Your mother
in her haythatched kitchen cooks

And your father
makes merry with his band.

While so freely you lay
here in my hands

Touching hurriedly hungryly
unknown lands
Your pomegranate kisses,
soft seeping blisses
Your dainty little hips
and your nipple tips

Will they move like this till morning.

Ginger faced gypsy,
I quietly left
Knowing
we 'll never cross our paths again
But i still think of you
Wondering
what your gypsylittle name was.