A gypsy swayed in her garden,
The garden lounged for Spring,
Winter with its aches was long,
As her dark and honey hair,
Her bosom longed for some soothe,
Of warm and sweet tender song,

She yearned for her gowns,
Of yesteryear,
When there was no waltz,
Of fear,
While tears were exquisite,
As honeysuckle,
Laughter beamed like gold from the sun,
Sighs beamed like gold from the moon,
And doves were sublime,
As the years,

Sway sweetly, exotic gypsy,
With the flowers of moon,
I shall bathe you,
In loving garments,
of sweetest nostalgia,
And champagne,
The moon,
and my loves very own robe,

You sway with my dreams,
Sway gently,
You sway with the gowns,
Of my dreams,
Sway gently,
And now and then,
Salsa boogie,

The nightingales,
Shall dance in your sweet mango breasts,
Crescent hips to serenade,
of flowers,
your exquisite rhythms,
And,
Your love glow in stillness
Reynaldo Casison