I'm Not a Gypsy
I’m not a gypsy, I’ll tell you that up front;
A man of wisdom leaves the psychic to his spouse.
But let me read the tarot cards and rashly take a punt
On the sorts of things I’ll find, lying round your house.
An old electric ‘thingo’: useless, antiquated;
A box of photographs, waiting to be sorted;
Medicines in a cupboard, hopelessly outdated;
Yellow paper clippings, where a wedding is reported.
A box of Reader’s Digests, stored beneath a bed;
A clock that’s broken, waiting to be fixed;
A casserole from the days when orange replaced red
And a door or drawer that always, always sticks.
The ladies will have several solitary earrings
And more shoes than they absolutely needed.
The men have a tool shed full of dear things
And a woollen suit or two, in sizes superseded.
I am really not a gypsy, that should be clear to all
But when I ‘sense’ I know what I will find.
Never trust a psychic, friends; I have no crystal ball
But I confidently predict they will gaily rob you blind.
I’m not a gypsy, I’ll tell you that up front;
A man of wisdom leaves the psychic to his spouse.
But let me read the tarot cards and rashly take a punt
On the sorts of things I’ll find, lying round your house.
An old electric ‘thingo’: useless, antiquated;
A box of photographs, waiting to be sorted;
Medicines in a cupboard, hopelessly outdated;
Yellow paper clippings, where a wedding is reported.
A box of Reader’s Digests, stored beneath a bed;
A clock that’s broken, waiting to be fixed;
A casserole from the days when orange replaced red
And a door or drawer that always, always sticks.
The ladies will have several solitary earrings
And more shoes than they absolutely needed.
The men have a tool shed full of dear things
And a woollen suit or two, in sizes superseded.
I am really not a gypsy, that should be clear to all
But when I ‘sense’ I know what I will find.
Never trust a psychic, friends; I have no crystal ball
But I confidently predict they will gaily rob you blind.
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© J Cosmo Newbery
© J Cosmo Newbery
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So? They are things everyone knows, aren't they? I bet your belly button fluff is blue too.
ReplyDeleteIndeed. Grey-blue.
ReplyDeleteBear in mind it was your shameless teasing of Lady Jinky that prompted this poem.
ahhhhhh ..
ReplyDeletea glimpse into the cosmo household ..
or would that be the foam household ..
anyway, you perhaps forgot the unidentifiable food item that has outstayed it's welcome in the fridge but has yet to be tossed out.
It was a bit cheeky, I admit. I seem to have scared the lady off. Pity.
ReplyDeleteBesides the wonderful weaving of words to woo,
ReplyDeleteI positively prefer the pictures too!!
J. Cosmo Newbery, You are da man!!
every fine "fruit" falls for a new fan.
Stu pidasso
That was awesome! Wow your talented.
ReplyDeleteGosh j cosmo you know us well! ♥
ReplyDeleteI am thinking that we peoples of India are well regarded as people who can tell the fortunes but we are not being gyspies. Please do not be insinuating so about us.
ReplyDelete