Poem By Terry Holzmacher

Gypsy, gypsy dance for me
Pulsing music wild and free
Take me to your caravans
Whispers of the sarabands
Dusky skin and night dark eyes
Wine stained lips for telling lies
Dram me into perfumed lands
Sing the lovely sarabands
In the firelight sobs the singer
Dance again to make me linger
Read the future in my hands
Promise me the sarabands
Gypsy campfires burning low
Say it's time for you to go
Gypsy, gypsy crossing land
Gave me gifts of sarabands

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Little Dog

I know, I'll see you waiting there
As you used to on the stair
Wagging tail and lolling tongue
You've been waiting very long


From her native land was torn
Sailed across the golden horn
Carried over turquoise floors
Through the gorgeous harem doors