Gypsy Davy came along
He sang so strange and sweetly
I’d filled the final page of my diary
A lovely thing given to me by the Lady of the Lake
& bound in a cover of tooled leather
The color of late-summer heather
& a single emerald spiking up at its center
To signal the green eye of the peacock carved there
So jealously guarding my words
Jealousy jealousy oh yes so much of what
I’d written in its pages only fable after fable
Of men always at odds with the truth
Men whose belief in love was so unequivocally
Selfish & provisional
The slightest little breeze off the hem of a skirt
Flowed along the river of their dreams & slowly
I learned my job was to play just a little tune
On a flute of jade & rain
To sing a simple song about the end of pain
& if you read on you’ll no doubt discover those ways
Such strange tender renders new life to any
Woman or man who’d follow a song beyond the beds
Of the forgotten
into lavish fields of blue light
Only the luckiest lovers may claim