the gypsy and the vagabond

She had come into the world a screaming thing, like everyone does.
A little blonde thing
With tiny feet that were sure to walk the world.
She took to dancing on rooftops and
Changing lives with her smile.
Through the strife of her youth,
She managed to keep her head in the clouds,
Where it should be.

Yet for a time, all there was for her was sadness,
A darkening of her heart and mind.
There was nothing left but escape,
A drop in the bucket of despair.
It was music that saved her, the night she meant to die.
A song that saved the beauty inside her.
That beauty bloomed like roses, and she laughed again.

She found a path and took it,
Gambling all her eggs in one basket
But the path was rough and she dropped them all.
Back to the farm, for more eggs,
But the silly gypsy girl took the same damned path.

On the fifth go ‘round,
She met him.
A sweet and gentle vagabond,
Tall and strong and handsome in his worn out shoes,
Standing in the grass and sunshine a little way off the path.
“I’ll trade you an apple for an egg, there, Miss” he said,
But they traded heart for heart instead, and were happy.

It’s like that for them now,
All sunrises and sunsets.
Wherever he walks, she wanders.
Wherever she rambles, he roams.
They sit on back porches and share lemonade.
He makes the music, she dances.
She makes the magic, and he dreams of her.

It’s a forever kind of love,
The kind that can last a single moment.
Its all tall grasses and polaroid pictures.
The wind in the trees,
The sunlight dancing with the dust.

And its only a summer, but its also forever.
Like everything else is.