In the morning gone were all

Last night the gypsies came -
Nobody knows from where.
Where they’ve gone to nobody knows,
And nobody seems to care!

Between the trees on the old swamp road
I saw them round their fire:
Tattered children and dogs that barked
As the flames leaped high and higher;
There were black-eyed girls in scarlet shawls,
Old folk wrinkled with years,
Men with handkerchiefs round their throats
And silver loops in their ears.
Ragged and red like maple leaves
When frost comes in the Fall,
The gypsies stayed but a single night;
In the morning gone were all -
Never a shaggy gypsy dog,
Never a gypsy child;
Only a burnt-out gypsy fire
Where danced that band so wild.

All gone and away,
Who knows where?
Only the wind that sweeps
Maple branches bare.

~Gypsies by Rachel Field~

My mum used to read me this poem when I was little. She loved it as a child and so did I. It seemed so magical and romantic... still gives me goosebumps.

Went for a quick whizz down the cycleway (where I came across the beautiful caravan and pony) to Bradford and back today, calling for much needed caffeine en route. Watched snooker in the afternoon. Ronnie and the ref had words so no doubt there will be an atmosphere for the rest of the final now. Why is there always something with Ronnie??

Thanks for all the comments yesterday, I enjoyed reading them all :-)
Happy May Day & Beltane Blessings xx