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A Gipsy’s Hand - Magpie Tales 226

©2014 Shers Gallagher
What I wouldn't give for all my days of childhood to re-enact the play of wonder shrouded in a gipsy's hand, foretelling of no past, which there had been little of so far,   but of days and dreams of adventures to come.
What I wouldn't give for all my days of pubescent wonder when love was but a whistle along an uncommon path absorbed in misty-eyed youth with songs of the unfulfilled romantic, comparing life more to a budding flower than any hand of reckoning.
What I wouldn't give for all my days of young adulthood when life was both a struggle and a play at becoming what the hand foretold and of the willingness to be its player in dreams and schemes of practically reckless abandon, the risk that is taken by any hopeful dreamer.
What I wouldn't give for all my days of reliving the dream the cards foretold,
laid out in the gipsy’s hand, the basic plan written in the dust of stars 
that I still shake my head at.
Aisling Books
Magpie Tales