the artist and the gypsy

 said the artist to the gypsy

How do you capture the wind?

Make her forget the joys of

carefree wandering, the gypsy grinned

nose to nose, the artist whispered

I paint your hair in the roaring seas

your eyelashes brush the earth

it’s true I’m in love with a beautiful breeze

the gypsy gazed at her moonlit map

and opened up the artists’ hands

Without you I cannot read the stars

the sky is grey with desert sands

You are the sun- untamable, free

and I am the wind- wild, impatient

together we make the desert I once roamed

am I in love with the creator or the creation?

I have touched the mountains

and they have formed my track

but it took the ever-warmth of the sun

to show me all the mountains lack

the artist moaned, Without you

the sun rises in black and white

and sets in shades of grey

but you are a gypsy, accustomed to flight

And I don’t desire to take your wind away.

she said, it’s true the land is a loved one

but like a flower in fertile desert, my joy of

carefree wandering has grown into the sun