Through skies of grey, what vision now descends?
A flame dances down upon the wisping air.
Her tresses flow, curling where wildness wends,
Carmine as cherries gracing lips quite fair.
Within roves a soul that no borders know,
Content in freedoms of its inward reign.
Over the world's blank page she glides aglow -
A nomad muse come dancing once again.
This Gypsy enchantress awakens the sea
Of slumbering songs that in my soul have lain.
Her crimson magic weaves its spell o'er me -
In wonders she'll lead my willing heart, I'm fain!
