Saturday, July 21, 2012


A cold night was dawning, the fires burned bright.
The gypsies moved on with their unending flight.
A caravan trailing the slightest of winds.
Walk on and listen, a story begins.
Tales of a traitor, the song of a prince.
The cry of a lady who flees on a whim.
A story of murder, a horrid black death,
A robber who stole a rich man's last breath.
Murmurs of rubies and diamonds like stars,
Spices and incense, perfumes kept in jars.
Gold coins that jingle, silver that spills,
Genies in bottles, the clash of mens' wills.
Bandits marauding and robbing us blind,
Leaving us nothing but thoughts in our minds.
Letting me wonder in light of the crime:
Sitting and sipping dark burgundy wine.

©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.

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