Cross my path with silver,
cackled the aged crone,
She sniggered,
and the girlie,
she just walked past,
Grinning, saying confidentially,
"What you know you silly old hag",
The hag she shouted in her face,
Girlie,"I can bless you,
or equally, can curse you",
The years did pass,
The crone, kept girl's sarcasm in her heart,
The girl she wanted an honest child,
for she had grown older,
somewhat bolder,
And she tried to conceive,
a baby of love,
a gift from above,
she had lots of expensive investigations,
but she just couldn't fall,
The crone she passed in the hallway,
Smiled all knowingly,
she whispered at the sweet chick,
"if you'd crossed my palm with silver, all those years ago,
you would have had a baby,
But you will never know,
She sat and she thought, and she smiled to herself,
For she never believed in that gypsy's curse.
Two years have passed since that day,
her bonny baby, she doth play,
realised the gypsy curse was *******.
(C) Livvi