Penny Sand

Penny Sand

A clear summer’s day, the middle of June,
The fair had come,
The gypsy stalls with their wagons strewn
Across the waving grass.
A carousel was dancing, the coconuts standing proud
Despite my efforts to knock them to the dewy ground
My pocket was empty as I wondered through that place
Having spent my last penny on the woven candy floss
Its feather fluffy clouds, sticking to my face
So when I glimpsed a speck of light
Shining from the muddy ground
And bent to see what object bright
Could produce such sparkle as I had found
My fist did close upon a copper penny
Rusted from the mud and rain
But still a penny had I found
On that clear summers day

With the coin clenched in my hand
I sort out the brightest stall of all
To have my fortune told by sand
And watch the grains through time be poured
The gypsy crone, smiled toothily
Her gnarled old hand reaching for my pay
I hesitated, then held it out
Becoming penniless again that day.
She beamed and motioned me to sit
Upon the knotted chair of oak
That mirrored her own stooping stance
A trait common amongst her folk.
She lit a burner of scented fumes,
And drew bright curtains around us two,
Then out from a drawer deep and dark
The focus of her power she drew.

It was an hour glass, polished bright
Reflecting what little light there was
Flowing from the smoky burner
My eyes were captured, fixed upon
The hags old hands as she turned
The thing upon it’s end
And the grains of sand began to descend
In majestic cascades from the very tip
Falling to the ever growing mountain which
Had writhing sand ever flowing
Down its regal planes
And yet when I looked past the torrent
My astounded eyes caught the sight
Of a weary woman trudging through
An ever darkening winter’s night
Then the grain of time had passed
And another took its place
Showing the future
Uncomprehendingly vast
And I saw my own, older face.
My parents gone, my children grown
The seeds of riches or poverty sown
Bliss and misery hanging by a thread
And neither path was chosen yet
Then the grain had dropped
And what I saw was my son
Playing on a pebbled beach
Just out of the sea’s playful reach
Then that grain too had passed.

I gasped as the next vision strong
Sang me its enticing song
A dancing couple, twirling round
Their feet barely touching the ground
Happy smiles radiating bliss
And then it’s lost
In the mists of sandy time.
The last few grains, fall to the mound
The intricate spell at last had found its end.
I felt suddenly lost, the chatter of life
Seemed unbearably loud
The breathing of the ragged crone too harsh
The crowds of people
Unaware of what had come to pass
I didn’t know who that woman be
Her eyes were blue as summer’s sky
For she couldn’t possibly be me
As mine were brown as bread of rye

The crone’s deep eyes, still as death
Watched me as I sort the key
A drop of sweat, diamond clear
Balanced on her crinkled cheek
And when the puzzle slid into place
And I raised my eyes to meet her own
Their startling blue, of sky’s sweet lace
Confirmed what I already knew
With every grain of sand that fell
A different part of time I saw
Each different path that one could lead
And it was her chosen path, I saw.

Every woman, every man
Has millions of different paths to chose
So we cannot know what trail they’ll take
Until they take it and others lose.
I left that fair, changed yet still
A little girl with life to find
My pockets were empty
I knew no more
I left my penny’s knowledge behind
The crone was watching, from her stall
My precious coin held in her hand
She tipped it, watched my penny fall
And went back to her enchanted sand.
The glinting coin, collected mud
But soon another passed by there
And saw the sparkle, saw the sand
And sat on the gnarled oak chair.

It was a clear summer’s day the middle of June
The fair had come,
The gypsy stalls with their wagons strewn
Across the waving grass.
A bent old woman
Her eyes brown as rye
Looked for the bright colours of the stall
But knew her eyes  would never see
The sands of time again.
A spark of light
Then caught her gaze
Her crooked frame bent to grasp
The coin she knew she’d find that day
Hidden in the dewy grass
The copper glint was muffled with mud
The rust of rain and time
Her crinkled face broke into smile
As she left the world behind.