Dominic came to kinson downs where gypsies bedded and young girls were heaven bound
the wheels did turn there and times were tough on the common land of peat and bluff
he road the trails of bracken down where birds did sing o'er rabbits mounds
where folks worked hard when hours were long amidst the days of swallow song
where Mountbatten arms doth stand today afore shoulder of mutton along the way
where birch did grow amidst heathers sweet with adder n lizards at your feet
near alderney where john did paint naked ladies so frequaint
where sankey ward built houses for the rich and lady wimbornes lodge was close to pitch
the writer stored his memories of gypsy life neath sky and trees
where crafts were rich in lore and pen where kids grew tall and fern did bend
the local people in kinson free where rich in style and histories
the longham bridge over the stour to ferndowns haunts and village squires
the war had took the youth its true with tales of valor from Waterloo
the commons rich in gravel clay and stone but to the gypsy it was home
where grass was mean and trails were sand and fortunes told to open hands
where families came from forest glades to build their homes n get it made
Dominic wrote and his wife did paint the gypsy story oh so quaint
till they were all housed on west Howe land with bricks of rogers builders band
the chimneys grew tall upon the land and pigs were sold in markets grand
the gaffers paid you on the land and the rich grew richer you understand
those days of gypsy life so free were recorded there in histories
with Dominics books of fame and lore he painted it as it was after the war
the gypsy families are still abroad you can hear them sing with one accord
their heather sprigs are sold today in Poole high street just like twas yesterday