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The Gypsy Maiden
Thru the
flickering fire light the man played his guitar in a sad haunting melody of lost and
forgotten loves.His fingers picking the sweet notes from the worn strings. The full moon
casting the only other light in the gypsy encampment.
From one of the small covered wagons came a lovely dark haired woman. Her eyes taking in
the lone guitarist and the dying light of the fire. She looked at the other wagons with
their gaudy painted sides. The bright paint muted in the gloom of the night, the fire
casting the shadows of the flames in every direction.
Pulling her shawl closer around her and crossing her small graceful arms along the
fullness of her chest, she walked toward the man and his song of love. For at the sight of
the beautiful maiden his guitar began telling an age old song of love in its delicate
notes.That he loved the woman there was no doubt. His love for her shown thru the windows
to his soul. She was an enchantress who had captured the heart of many admirers and
scorned them all but one.
That magical moment when he had ridden into the camp and her eyes beheld the handsome
stranger, was etched into her memory for all time.That night as he had played cards, she
had gazed at him time after time. His rich laughter ringing in her ears. His sullen, sexy
voice like a soothing tonic to her soul.As the night wore on the gypsy maiden was losing
her heart to the stranger, bit by bit.
After the card game, she was called on to entertain the men of the camp with her dancing.
The guitar started softly at first, weaving the melody thru the camp site.She walked to a
small clearing near the camp fire, her earrings catching and flashing back the golden
light. Her feet bare and dusty,her eyes closed as she started to sway and lose herself in
the music. As it filled her mind and body, she openned her dark, sultry eyes and stared
right into the stranger's steel blue ones, demanding his attention. His eyes never leaving
her, he watched as she told a tale thru the movements of her body. It was an age old story
told many times, in many ways, of the desire simmering just beneath the surface of her
being. Her arms moving to the beat of the music, her hips swaying in time to the notes of
the song, she danced for the stranger alone.When the guitar played the last note, she was
standing before the man who inspired this dance of love. He took her hand and led her away
from the others.
In the background she could hear the laughter and voices of the other men in the camp but
her eyes only saw the man who held her so near.He lifted her chin with one hand and
brought his lips down to claim hers. His touch was like fire on her skin, his kiss was a
heavenly delight that would linger long after he was gone. As he drew her closer to him
and she experienced the warmth of his body, the masterly touch of his hands guiding her to
lean against his chest, the sound of hoofbeats filed the camp. A lone rider galloped up to
the stranger and was shouting for him to hurry and get his horse. They had to leave right
that moment because the fleet was moving and he must be there. With a look of deep regret
in his eyes, he kissed her once more before mounting his horse and plunging into the dark
night with a mighty race for time.
That was the last she saw of the stranger. Tonight, remembering the dance she preformed so
many months ago, she raised her arms and twirled into the light of the fire to dance once
again for a lost love. And the guitar player, who loved the maiden deeply, shed a single
tear as he played for her alone, one more time.
If you enjoyed this story, please let me know!
Copyright Susan Allen March, 1999
Midi Selection: Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman
Luigi DeMuse
