Tepid summer's day
leaves crackling beneath my sandalled feet.
Walking freely up the lane, and yet,
my blithe spirit accompanied
by the knot in my belly.
Fields on both sides of me, I turn my head
so as I could spot them, where they
had pitched their beasts.
Ignoring the warnings from my grandmother
''Don't wander too far''
I skip up to the fence and peer over
into the haze of jade, the sun beating down
relentlessly on my golden head.
The gentle, giant beast stops and stirs,
and to his left, it is there.
A wooden caravan - emerald, with red roses...
*
Yonder stands her innocents.
My brow beaten bandanna
drys in the boil
of the blistering sun.
The wandering wagon wakes
to the new day,
weary in the night
we have come,
to rest beside the road.
Arms stretched to heaven
to reach the sun
and greet the dawn,
I see a child of God.
Far from her beaten
path she has come.
Her soft set eyes
avert my stare,
to sashay towards
the Sunday saddle
that lies in rest,
in a thousand summers
of her secret slumber,
in quiet nights
of freedom and fire,
she longs to follow.
*
With a burst of bravery,
my tiny white leg hooks onto the wood
on my attempt to hitch myself over
the fence, and onto the rhythmic grass.
A twist of the foot, and a catch of the skirt,
lands me in the dust-puddle, but at last I am here.
Stood up straight to the blazing sky, I dust myself down,
sniff maybe once or twice, and wipe my hands on my knees
Only to stop and stare, at the sight before me.
I pad gingerly over, to the glorious creature,
and he gently bends his head to be stroked.
Chestnut shining in the sun, a white diamond emblazened
across his forehead, dark amber eyes staring into mine,
and as I giggle in the moment we share, until stopped
dead
by footsteps. As the man walks out and down the caravan steps. I'm caught.
*
"These fences you cross,
these rules you break,
they are not mine
my sweet one"
"The burden you bring,
the beast that bows,
the meadow that rolls,
is not ours,
nor it yours."
"Hush my child,
fear not I say,
no harm is here,
nor comfort for
my tierless aid,
who carries our load,
and pulls our lives
across your weary world"
"No fence will hold him,
no walls will bind,
he is wild young one,
he is free to roam,
as am I
as are you.
Step lightly to the brink,
the moon will rise again"
*
My heart thumps and echos
like a strong hand against an empty vessel.
The horse forgotten, the green grass a vivid blur,
the beauty of the painted wagon
sinking into the back of my mind.
All there is for me to see, is myself
and the man, as I stare into his face, knowing
just - knowing - that I could be taken at one moment.
He stretches his arms to the fearless sky
cocks his sun-kissed head just a little
paces toward me, the colourful head-band
waving in the wind. He bends like the neck
of a loving horse, and then looks up to me
and asks,
*
Do you really want to be free child.
Things that are taken are free.
But when choice is taken,
no one is free.
Free to jump a fence,
free to stray
from the worn
and weary path,
when straying could mean
never returning
to the confinement
of the things you
love to hate.
This horse was free my child,
but i took his freedom
to further mine,
and I made us both slaves
to this endless road.
He was blessed
and now he is burdened.
Do you really want to be free?
free to be used
to further the wonder lust
of bandits and thieves
who step on stationary dreamers,
to move further away
from their broken vision
of stability and love
in the dark of night.
*
The words he speaks ring in my head,
and though my small mind understands them,
my first thought is of my grandmother at home making tea.
I peer up at the man as the cloud covers the sun,
and sway on my legs, maybe back off a little.
Fiddling with the fraying skirt, I grin into his sparkling eyes
and he smiles back knowingly.
With one last look at my horse, I swing over the fence into home ground.
The weather can snap and turn around
just like a volatile adult.
Similarly, the once even wind now rushes against me
pushing me a little, ruffling my hair like the gypsy once might have,
had I stayed a moment longer.
My small feet slapping the beaten gravel lane
as I sprint in the sacred direction,
had you seen me you'd think I was carried by air.
Arriving home, the slam of a door, my back
sliding down the wood as I sink to the floor.
My burst of freedom existed - and lasted eight minutes,
and my gypsy man has his for a lifetime.
I was only young back then, but I still remember what he means
when I feel like part of the sky stretching backwards, when I watch
the birds... fly away to somewhere nobody need know.
And years later, living in a bustling city brimming with restrictions,
I still sometimes think of him and smile.
In the dark of night.
Author notes
A collaboration between Liam and Jess... we're testing the water just now... see what you think!
Some of it is true to life, and some of it never happened until it came to pass as we sat and wrote it. Which is which... is entirely up to you 
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Immaculate...
Well, I thoroughly enjoyed this Jess, the collab is exceptional, a perfect partnership I would say...of course, knowing the little I do of you from your journal entries...and knowing Liams expertise and style, it's not difficult to see who is where...and that's not taking anything away or adding anything to either...your two distinct styles complement one another in a way I've not seen, here or anywhere else for that matter!
As for the tale, it is delicious...I love story poems(if there's such a category) it's what I do!
Liam has not only great talent, but an extremely gracious heart...so you see what happens when you give freely of yourself...you get something back that is far greater than what you gave...in this case, a superbly written poem!
Congrats to you both, this is immaculate!
John
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when i was young, i wanted to be a gypsy.
this is amazing...
everything I love in one beautiful river of words...
im new here, but I wish I knew how to favorite a poem or authors or SOMETHING!
--i'd give three claps, but i can only afford two :3
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OMG!
I'm not so familiar of your work, but Liam I know so very well.
But This was OUTSTANDING!
I have to be honest, i would have never thought Liam could collab with anyone
beings that he has his own set style but WOW you my friend just carried it right along with him and it flowed just perfectly.
The imagery just leaped from the page!
I really enjoyed this ALOT!
Thank you so much for sharing!
-Mandi
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-Simply amazing! I am a fan of Liam's but have never read anything of yours (sorry), but I must say I am put on to do so now. You two have wonderful writing chemistry. The imagery was absolutely stunning. It was a bit long, but anything shorter would have been a tease. I loved this and I hope that I shall fined my 8 minutes of freedom soon. Great job and a pleasurable read.- IrishGypsyRose
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Hey! That's okay - out of the two of us, Liam's always been the more well-known and most likely the better writer also! Hehe, but I'm so glad you liked the piece, it's so rewarding to hear you say such nice things as we spent a lot of time on it (usually ending up in late-night hysteria, lol) and really wanted it to work.
Thankyou so much for reading and for giving such a generous comment.
Ps. I definitely know your name, and I'm sure I've read some of your work before and really enjoyed it. I'll go on your page now and check, I know I'd recognise the style straight away.
Love and hugs,
Jess
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Where the hell do I start? The images spring forth painting the pictures within the recesses of the mind. I see the heat rising from the meadow, hear the cautionary voice warning. The caravan with the dew of pure morning glistening in the Sun.
What price do we pay to have that which we consider needed, what do we lose once we have made that choice.
Who do we finally answer to but ourselves?
Where once I was the young child, careening home after a short glimpse of a path I could not take, I now see that I have become, in my way, a gypsy.
This is magnificent. I hope that others who read it and still have it within them, can find that path that they did not choose, perhaps to see if the caravan has again rolled into the meadow.
Peace
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Thankyou so much for your kind and generous comment! We really appreciate that you took the time to read, and very glad that you liked it and got something out of it.
Thankyou also for the claps
God bless,
Jess x
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What a piece of great poetry and collaborative work that the both of you put into. I liked the visual uses of words in this piece...it was so realistice in my own opinion. Thanks for a job well done!
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Thanks for reading Pat we're glad you liked it!
Jess x
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(smiling) whew! Perfect chemistry as writers and as the characters portrayed..two distinct writing styles combine to give an exhilerating feel of what freedom really means. And what it costs. Excellent, both of you,!
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Thankyou so much! We really appreciate your feedback!
Jess x
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