GYPSY / Poem by Aneeta Chitale

I saw a gypsy
By the side of- Pharaoh’s in Egypt
So scintillating was her headgear adorned
With silvern and gold coins
She walked in poise as she
Skirted her long Egyptian Gypsy Trails
Clad in ……
Myriad colours and mystique stance
She walked round the tall big
Pharaoh’s and Pyramids
Lost in archaic time
May be she had
To find her answers
Buried deep, lost in vicisstudes of time!
She gazed at her ‘Crystal Ball’
Intonating with chimes
And walked away,
As if The Pharaoh’s would breathe to life
And she would find
The secrets of life!
In tombs one lived a life
After death,
So the tale of Pharaoh’s tell
So exotic and ephemeral
In times they lived!
I stood behind, the tombs
Struck in awe and wonder
I too looked at The Pyramids
Forever thinking
Why The Kings, The Pharaoh’s lay
In majestic tombs?
Each bespoke
A story of it’s reign
In Egypt!
Waiting to breathe to life
Perhaps…..I think
May be the winds knew the secret!
The Gypsy too bespoke
A truth!
They would rise to rule
In glory of their tribe!
To live in a mirage
Of time travel
Of battles fought long ago, to recount
Glory in the Aquarian age!
To tell the story, to the spirits
And mankind
I wondered, if the dead would rise
From the sand dunes?
In time travel…….
I followed her
To the streets of Baghdad, in Samara
by the river, Tigris
The sun had set, and she carried
Frankieinsence, burnt briquettes
In a silver ‘Bakhoor’
She trailed it’s incense and peacock feathers
In the bazaars and wadi’s of
The old, den of Caliph!
She spelled her charms and
Wore her talisman, her amulets
Intricately designed,
Bedounian styled
Whispering to herself….
Secret messages
Of the wind and the water!
She wore orthoceras dagger ring,
Long and crafty Omani style
Decked in Aqeeq Red Rings
Bejewelled her- all ten fingers
With cats eye and moonstones
She wore her long ‘Black Abeya’
Puffed in lingering scents
Clunging to her bosom, her Arabic perfumes
Adorned with Egyptian silver cuffs,
And ten toe nails, covered in Bedounin’s maze
I followed her in awe and wonder
Like a man in trance
Dare not ask her my………
Good fortune!
I think, she was…. my Talisman !
Who took me to
The streets of Baghdad!
Poem By Aneeta Chitale (India)
All Copyrights Reserved

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