Summer, for most, is the time for play;
But for the gypsies, it is also time to stray
From the newest town they call home,
The time to part, pack and roam.
Dozens or so in a single caravan,
They travel under shade and across beach sand-
The children attack the ocean’s green gleam
To hide from the merciless sun’s bright beams;
The youngest search for pink and white shells,
Today’s hunt and another day’s sell.
The women wade, their dresses clinging to their forms-
Beautiful to all as the men and fish swarm;
The unmarried flaunt their flawless tans,
Relying on the summer’s sun to send each a man.
They run and they leap until the day reaches noon;
They swim and splash until time for the moon-
It is full and bright, the softest of light,
Summer most peaceful in the blackest of nights.
They dance around flames though the heat is still high;
They sing to the stars, praising summer’s dark sky.
They worship this god who sends them the longest of days,
Professing their love for this season of play.
This has some great orignal pieces. The visual descriptions are the best. Great piece for the Summer Contest. Congratulations on a well deserved placement in the contest.
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