In the gypsy lavender scented tent

she gazes into a crystal ball

at a gypsy table with beaded cover

like a stage set of a gypsy's lament

 

Gazes intently with head like an alien

into the squatting orb of the ball

knowing everything and nothing at all

her mind plays tricks

the glass is dark

 

where ocean meets the sky, 

future bleeding with a tremulous sigh

her mind and the stageset perfectly combine

 

words take shape like spittles of air

her brow is furrowed

is the news we await out there?

hands palm up reveal lines of fortune not kind

 

tell me tell me ,    the time is ticking

improvements in your personal life

are overdue, dear and will arrive quite soon.

 

Outside a queue is forming behind the flap

workmen with tools a bluster of sound

shaking the threads

of gypsy promise

loose inside the tent.

 

The lazy eye is clouding over

still she talks to close the session

 

It's a funny old world

the olde worlde

but now the girl with her knees tight pressed

feels quite relieved and somehow thrilled

her pocket and spirit a little lighter,

 

boyfriend restive, on his third cigarette.