i rode those gypsy caravans
where the trails were wild and the journey's long
i watched the swirling reels of rhymes
the wheels that spun and the poets vines
i stumbled through their tales of woe
their sodden rides where willows grow
where eyes of destiny saw through trees
brambles that caught ones hands and knees
i listened to the folki lore
those tales of old like days before
where sparrows flew upon the downs
where gypsy folk were bedded down
i saw those fairground roulette's spin
those darts that flew o'er every whim
i heard their chatter each new line
their jests and spin like hands of time
i walked those tracks o'er meadows sweet
where berries grew above my feet
where rabbits ran and foxes chased
where plough was rich and life's no haste
i heard their laughter and saw their pain
their tears of joy like once again
where cock did crow and cows did graze
where pony's ran and boy did laze
the gypsy reels and folki lore told tales of life
no eyes deplored and yet it richness was divine
afore the bricks and mortars zine