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Garry Riley

of

Brisbane, Queensland, Australia

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Gypsy Moor

by

Garry Riley

Cat gut meows as gypsy violins explode their sub-harmonic spores upon the moorland
Nights sweet sperm nurtures the ever traveled mushrooms of hope
Bohemian images arise like glittering divas from within, as they dance throughout the flowering membrane of life
Caravans and shadows merge with the fertile spores, ever changing,
the final metamorphous from butterflies to kings..

The growling wind, freezes evil to a stillness,
A great circle of cabala protects the dancers from the spirits of night
Crackling wood blazes from the navel of their world
Forgotten woes, ‘til the reality of tomorrow is again born with the face of the day
Dance, dance, dance with the passion of wild things ..

Cold ashes spread over fly blown horse dung. No fortune tellers to palm your silver
The rumble of horse and cart in the distance like a dream
The world is awakened by the living things of reality
Gypsies awake to the terrible reality of the living
Follow the rutted caravan tracks and tonight become a king ..