The morning after we celebrated your birthday
the wind turned mild;
pale daffodils rocked like dreaming children
beside the quiet river;
skeletal trees ducked and weaved under white clouds
that drifted silent as swans.
Winter had shuffled off to an early sleep over
on the peaks of far away mountains.
And then, as was usual at this time of year,
intoxicating rumours awoke and quickly flourished
among old travellers crouched around the camp fire,
A cornucopia of wizened Fortune Tellers
who whispered madly into pots and pans.-
The phoenix was seen alive upon a Monday,
she zig zagged on fire through a galaxy of branches.
A unicorn, tamed by a young girl`s whisper,
pranced for an hour in the April snow.
A dog faced boy lay dead in a cot.
A wolf brought shame on a red cloaked virgin,
then gobbled all her cookies up on the spot.
A milch cow cited Homer to the vicar.
A horse gave birth to a brindled cat.
A chicken laid an egg packed with diamonds.
A cockerel baked the farmer in his coarse linen smock.-
Tall tales clutched to old hearts like rare silver
now that the cold times were almost gone.
But we two, we could not dream, not you and I,
We had known too much sorrow since late December
when the surgeon failed to save our unborn child,
and nearly killed you when he cut too deep.
We remained locked inside your grandad`s Vardo,
curled snug in a ball like new born kittens,
mute in our sorrow, afraid of our grief, but not wanting to die,
A cockerel baked the farmer in his coarse linen smock.-
Tall tales clutched to old hearts like rare silver
now that the cold times were almost gone.
But we two, we could not dream, not you and I,
We had known too much sorrow since late December
when the surgeon failed to save our unborn child,
and nearly killed you when he cut too deep.
We remained locked inside your grandad`s Vardo,
curled snug in a ball like new born kittens,
mute in our sorrow, afraid of our grief, but not wanting to die,
stone deaf and blind to the change in the weather.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
First sketched March 10th. 2011.
Revised September 5th. - 6th. - 9th. - October 21st. 2013.
Completely rewritten June 15th. - August 27th. 2016.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
First sketched March 10th. 2011.
Revised September 5th. - 6th. - 9th. - October 21st. 2013.
Completely rewritten June 15th. - August 27th. 2016.
October 17th. 2020.
The many European influences on this poem are very clear, especially the Brothers Grimm; and the Welsh Gypsies referred to in this poem, originated in Rajasthan 1000 years ago. Britain owes a huge amount of it`s culture to the rest of the world. This has never been an island isolated from the Eurasian continent, but has always been a part of the Eurasian mainstream. We are a very European people.
The many European influences on this poem are very clear, especially the Brothers Grimm; and the Welsh Gypsies referred to in this poem, originated in Rajasthan 1000 years ago. Britain owes a huge amount of it`s culture to the rest of the world. This has never been an island isolated from the Eurasian continent, but has always been a part of the Eurasian mainstream. We are a very European people.
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