a poem by Edwin Keith Jepson, UK - poetry writer, author, poet

When I were a young boy,
My Mother said to me,
Whatever else you may do,
And I know for certain it is true,
Don't ever open the front door,
When a gypsy comes a knocking,
Or she will curse you that's for sure,
It's only an old wive's tale ,
I replied, with a laugh,
No she answered,
If you refuse to buy a lucky charm,
Or some lucky Heather,
She will put a curse on you forever,
Well surfice to say,
It happened one day,
And I opened our front door,
And standing outside,
Was an old ,old lady,
Basket in hand,looking wrinkled and shady,
You buy, she said,
In a domineering voice,
So I gave her a shilling,
And took the Heather,
She smiled, and said,
You'll be lucky forever,
I closed the door,
And gave Mum the Heather,
But forty years on
I haven't a shilling, and no lucky Heather,
And I'M stuck in the house,
Because of our English Weather,

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