Gypsy Girl

Lately I have been meaning tp say something ? i think you should put some of these poems into short story format, I love these and think expanding them would only enhance them ... wonderful write but a few small things ? Your “The Gypsies are evil,” the church folk all said “The only y good Gypsy is one that was dead” ---- extra y in the sentance She was the most beautiful girl, I’d ever seen With symbols in her hands,bells on her toes ---- symbols ON her hands or did you mean symbols flying out of her hands or that her hands hold power lol sorry my brain went four different ways on that IN lol Other than those couple of things hun you have another winner once it is cleaned up a tad ... loved the story and feel that a short story would only enhance it Kind Regards Jayne :)

I enjoyed this sad love story. It was a great read. felt a little sorry for Rebecca though. Yes, as Seren said, a few small details to tidy up and edit.But as I said this was great. Well done. Lyz XX

Superb story crafted into verse, I was trapped in it right up to and including the end, and then I read it all over again. Great rhyming, fantastic imagery,a beautiful poem. You know me, I tend to only like dary poetry, and would leave 'love' poetry alone, but there was enough tragedy in this to keep excited...everybody ended up sad...or dead...perfect! 5 shiny little stars for you. regards, HS ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth and yet nobody sees me".

I think Jayne is right, this would make an excellent short story if expanded. I think you mean "cymbals" instead of "symbols", as that is the musical brass instruments that are worn on the fingers. A few of the lines feel forced. Just read the piece aloud and you will know which ones. I really enjoyed this poem's story line. Always, Cat

"My mother said that I never should play with the Gypsies in the wood..." Oh here it is:- My Mother Said Never Play With Gipsies 

My Mother said, I never should
 Play with the gipsies in the wood; 
If I did, she would say,
 You naughty girl to disobey. 
Your hair shan’t curl and your shoes shan’t shine,
 You gipsy girl, you shan’t be mine.
 And my father said that if I did 
He’d rap my head with the teapot-lid.
 The wood was dark, the grass was green 
Along came Sally with a tambourine. 
I went to sea - no ship to get across, 
I paid ten shillings for a blind white horse. 
I up on his back 
And was off on a crack, 
Sally tell my mother that I shan't come back. Oh those beloved vagabonds, I read a book with that name and That poem my mother used to like because of its rhythm I believe. The Gypsies or Romany's are a special race of peoples with such character and verve, such music and art 'normal' peoples have always felt a fear of them, and that has driven them to difficulties and made them seem romantic tooI think. That was very simply put but you can find out for yourself, or have done already? I was so glad that Oslo had a particular park where they lived in the centre of the town when I arrived in N.1972, but no, that was later to become a big building and they were chased away. I hope you don't mind my suggestions, only suggestions and the dividing up of the poem makes it SO much easier to read. When I was a lad a long time ago
 There was a Gypsy girl, and I loved her so
 Her skin was bronze, her hair long and black
 That waved with the wind down the small of her back
 Her smile was stunning, her eyes brightest green
 She was the most beautiful girl, I’d ever seen 
 With symbols in her hands,bells on her toes
 She dazzled my senses when they put on their shows 
Her dancing enchanted me, Put me under her spell 
My father told me she was a demon from Hell 
“The Gypsies are evil,” the church folk all said
“ The only good Gypsy is one that was dead”
 “They come here with their magic, a unholy thing” 
“And the songs they bring us, no good Christian would sing” 
“Look at the way she waves her hips at the men ”
The evil Jezebel was born just to sin”
 “Whore!” they would yell,when she walked down the street
“ If you come near our sons with your filth, a bad end you will meet!”
 They would throw rocks at head, they would chase her away..............(HER head?)
 And that’s how they treated the Gypsies day after day
  Oh but I loved her,  I thought she was Heaven sent....................(I thought her heaven sent?)
 And I would follow her where ever she went 
I would hold her close and kiss her ruby red lips 
My hands would travel all over and rest on her hips
 We would make love under the trees near her camp 
Moving our bodies together till we were both damp 
When we were done she would bury her head in my chest 
I would become aroused again, when I felt on her breast 
I knew it would have to end, I thought it was cruel 
But Christians couldn’t wed  Gypsies, that was the rule
 In fact I had to marry Rebbecca , a good Christian find
 She came from a good family, she was gentle and kind 
I had to marry her if I was to inherit  the family wealth........(marry her to inherit the f..)
 As my fathered reminded me daily for he was not in good health
 The wedding was to be soon, I had to tell my love 
Her cries were so soft like the coo of a dove 
 “No she pleaded it does not have to be’
 You can travel with us, there is a whole world out there to see” 
“Then we can be together till the day that we die” 
“Do not marry that girl, she said with a cry. ”
My heart was breaking  I did not want to see her in pain 
But I  was greedy and knew that to be with her there was none to be gained
 I needed comfort and money for I was a weak minded  fool...( cut out MINDED?) 
I knew even then I was my father’s slave mule 
So I pushed her away and said we were done 
Loving the way her hair shone in the sun 
Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees 
“Do not leave me” She screamed  “I’m begging you please”
 I could not bear to see her like this
 So I bent down to give her one final kiss
 Then I ran like mad  leaving my love  and my soul 
Knowing I would live the rest of my life like a empty black hole
 My Gypsy girl  had a dagger in her tiny fist
 She took it and slashed a gash in her wrist
 My selfishness killed her, my heart died with her there 
Their was no love within me i had nothing to share 
But I married Rebbecca on the first day of spring 
I vowed to be hers and gave her my grandmother’s ring 
We had many children, she was a great mother and wife
 Our days were happy and fruitful,we had a wonderful life 
 But my world ended when my Gypsy girl died 
I never loved Rebbecca no matter how hard i tried
 My Gypsy haunted me at night when i dreamed 
I could almost feel her touch that’s how real that it seamed
 She would dance for me , smile and whisper in my ea r
“Come to me” she would say “come to me dear”
 “‘Oh my darling”  I’m coming  I would scream in the night
 When i catch I’m going to grab you and hold you so tight
 The we will make love under the trees that are ours.......(theN)
 Giving a show to the sparkling stars
 The i would wake up with my wife at my side.................(theN)
 My disappointment strong but i would give my best try to hide....(perhaps: do my best to hide)?)
 so i would go to work and my best to get through the day...........( and try to get through the day..or?)
 So I could finally sleep and dream the night away
 my Gypsy girl, my love oh I miss you so 
And if could do it again, I would not let you go
 She would smile sweetly, and say “someday you will be here with me”
 “Then I will show how wonderful the life of a Gypsy can be” Love to you green eyes from Ann of the north

OH say can you see. ok back to the poem, twas wonderful, full of romance indecision and, sorrow, love torn depictions spread before us, like an open window to this Gypsy girl's love and convictions, this folly of of happenings leading to her death was tragic, and a travesty. I won't share my feelings on this. But in the all this was a superior writing and the story was very nice indeed can't change perfection, just Let it shine. I had to reread mine six times this morning, what a pain. but I still had fun. so till our next encounter. John Mantiscepter

She would smile sweetly, and say “someday you will be here with me” “Then I will show how wonderful the life of a Gypsy can be” It is real and true The life of gypsy is really happiest and worry less life They can pave their own way no set of rules and frames in the name of status Well Said SAKTHEE