My Romany Gypsy friend

An old mysterious gypsy lady
Lives in her ‘Vardo’ caravan
I often call to visit her
She tells my fortune when she can
I think it depends on her mood
How she is feeling on that particular day
Sometimes she tells me she is too tired
and actually bids me to go away

But I have a ‘soft spot’ for this Romany gypsy
Her appearance is as old as the hills
She’s often complaining about the cold
Tells me”Ma old bones dos feels de chills”

I adore her old ‘Vardo’ dwelling
It always feels like home
She told me her bygone adventures
She used this caravan to roam
Her name is Lavinia Lovell
I only found this out today
Her folks shortened it to Lavi
But Lavinia hated it that way

I’ve got to know her quite well
and often she will hold my right hand
Saying to me “I got som ting I needs to tell, You is da prettiest in da land”
Haha bless her, I love her little curious way
I always answer “ You old romantic, is this all you see today?”

Then she seems to wander off in a mystical trance
Lavinia’s azure eyes sparkle whilst her mind does twirl and dance
It is as if she has returned to the days when she was young
Her hoarse accent changes 
With a softly spoken tongue

Like a neverending chapter in a storybook
Sentence by sentence, never missing a nook
Lavinia casts her spiritual spell 
On my vulnerable imagination
That she knows Oh so well
Leaving me in an excited state of illusion
Tho her tales are never completed so I’m left in bewildered confusion

Oh my dearest Lavinia Lovell
Don’t you ever dare to go
Have I ever told you lately
How much I admire you so
I dread the day when I can’t darken your door
Coz that will mean you’ve gone away and I can’t see you anymore