And Gypsy wheeled 'round,
weeping tears of fire
for dawning youth smothered,
lifeless pyre.
Head buried in cape
graced by mother's thread,
she sniffed the old garment,
but the scent had gone dead.
Sequel to "Gypsy's Prayer"(1) and "Gypsy Wind"(2)
weeping tears of fire
for dawning youth smothered,
lifeless pyre.
Head buried in cape
graced by mother's thread,
she sniffed the old garment,
but the scent had gone dead.
Sequel to "Gypsy's Prayer"(1) and "Gypsy Wind"(2)
1 comment:
Dear readers,
This is a fictional poem about a female named Gypsy (please note the capitalization of her name), and not about "a gypsy."
Kindly refrain from allowing plagiarists and sick, shrunken minds to reinterpret my poetry through someone's obsession with pregnancy, gynecology, and abortion: For example, there is a medical term already in use for one of the final stages of childbirth: This term is "crowning." The word "dawning" is not intended here as "another word for" "crowning"! "Dawning" has such a wider, emotionally universal meaning than the specific, physical phenomenon of "crowning" in childbirth.
Please, also, recall that one of the meanings of the word "youth" refers not to a person, but to a time period of life.
As "gypsy" is not capitalized in the text of the previous poem of this series, Gypsy Wind, and as the word "gypsy" in the text of that poem is used as an adjective -- not as a noun or proper name -- the adjective "gypsy," in that poem, is both a play on words and a metaphorical description relating to the quality of the wind!
Poetry will not submit itself to the concrete reduction of truncated minds demanding "answers" of it which, by its very open-ended, mysterious nature, it was not designed to give. The enigmatic beauty of poetry is that it is meant to be, to some degree, an unsolved mystery. For concrete details and "answers," please consult journalists in the field of journalism. Thank you.
~ Turquoise
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