A Gypsy Summer

Summer, for most, is the time for play;

But for the gypsies, it is also time to stray

From the newest town they call home,

The time to part, pack and roam.

Dozens or so in a single caravan,

They travel under shade and across beach sand-

The children attack the ocean’s green gleam

To hide from the merciless sun’s bright beams;

The youngest search for pink and white shells,

Today’s hunt and another day’s sell.

The women wade, their dresses clinging to their forms-

Beautiful to all as the men and fish swarm;

The unmarried flaunt their flawless tans,

Relying on the summer’s sun to send each a man.

They run and they leap until the day reaches noon;

They swim and splash until time for the moon-

It is full and bright, the softest of light,

Summer most peaceful in the blackest of nights.

They dance around flames though the heat is still high;

They sing to the stars, praising summer’s dark sky.

They worship this god who sends them the longest of days,

Professing their love for this season of play.

Reviews

[Brittany DeFranco]

I love it once again.
100/100

[.]

You described the summer greatly and it rhymed. I got adicted to poems that rhyme.
Great work! 100/100

[Sarah Marie]

Thank you! I really appreciate your feedback!

[.]

you're welcome