Time sweet time will flow every minute true gypsy with a crystal ball a dime spent as dreams flew..
seemed she was older.. when I spent my coin.. now younger bolder.. passion stirs my loins.. regress from her dancing dress.. back must lend my task..’why blues when I really look or love?’.. quiet I asked..
Young woman had certain class.. perfect dream fulfill.. we rose to sit a cloud.. defining inner will.. not a thought was heard.. no words spoken there.. in words felt not heard.. a way to grow in share..
‘in the crowd.. in thought aloud.. eyesight of your soul.. may not see those who be puppets robot controlled.. living.. mean.. empath forgive those souls with a clue.. will let you down.. make you frown.. there is just one of you.. magic of gypsy.. wisdom of the bard.. faith of faithful priests will say.. “each has their special card”.. lets you into places.. some yours.. some seen by you.. disappointment has no ointment.. just a sad REview’..
on a grassy hillside I saw her image fade.. she was every woman every man in love or trade.. would see her as he dreamed set by love as true.. as the soul that needs a touch.. afraid.. dreams run to true..
music bells.. ring in the glade.. in moments met by you
Weather is strange here in W.LA for this time of year. Sky looks, from the high clouds.. winds.. stillness and humidity.. like the island sky before a tropical storm in the Pacific.. Peace Tony