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A fun poem that plays with a descending rhythm. I think it has a whirling quality. |
| "For the Gypsy Fair..." Mysterious sway, men all swoon Mysterious ways; dance with the moon Spinning breezes, flirting lass Flowing tresses, batted lash Silver shine, lips lacquered Silky soft, Leather laced The dizzying scents Exotic essence Smoldering eyes Twirl and a jig Fast fingers Burnished mane Bronzed, stained No shame Coin? Coin? ... For the gypsy fair... J. G. Green, '08 |