Travelling from town to town,
Her living was song and dance,
In a tattered blue gown in winter,
Only one shoe worn by chance.
A thick overcoat in summer,
Her breath was like hot steam,
She loved to dance with castanets,
Her life an unusual dream.
She carried a basket of flowers
And waved a wand into the air,
Whichever Inn she went to,
People would stand and stare.
Penniless and drunk most of the time,
People gave her their change,
Which she tied to a cord and dragged around,
Her mind they thought deranged.
She would then give her money to the poor
Only taking what she needed,
She would drink, then sleep, wherever she fell,
Others cautions, were unheeded.
“We blossom in the morn” She sang
“We have faded by eventide”
In life and death she saw no change,
She took these in her stride.
She saw clearly what has no falsehood,
And what does not shift with things,
An eccentric insane wanderer,
She had the gift, immortality brings.