Saturday, February 19, 2011


I tried my hand at foretelling, once, many moons ago,
Although the art of foretelling was something I didn't know.
My school (I was then in Zimbabwe) was having an annual fair,
And I agreed to be the Gypsy telling fortunes there.
I sat in a rather spooky cave, dressed-up in Gypsy gear,
With a crystal ball on a table, shining rotund and clear.
I was only fooling, as I have no psychic powers,
But I told peoples' fortunes for cash for several hours.
I worked this way; I looked into the ball with solemn gaze
And simply let my mind roll on in all sorts of fantastic ways.
Then I said, in a rather hollow voice, something like 'Aha!
I can see a relation here, who doesn't know where you are.'
I was never too specific, and I gauged, by the reply,
Whether I'd hit the jackpot or should let this chance go by.
If a puzzled look was all I got, I'd try another tack,
But if there was recognition I'd continue down the track.
'That must be my cousin from England!' someone might gulp and say;
'I've been meaning to write to him ever since I came away!'
Then, armed with this little titbit, I'd continued to fabricate
And, almost every time, it seemed, my sitter took my bait.
It was all too easy, that's why, ever since that day,
I've seriously doubted psychics, suspecting feet of clay.

A Haiku

Something shines!

It sparkles, it glows.

One golden coin in a dark green purse.

P.S. Please visit
 for something extra!


vivinfrance said...

Rinkly, you surpass yourself daily. This one's a cracker!

Julie Jordan Scott said...

Wow. I am sitting here wondering if you made this ENTIRE thing up... or just the outcome or... (in other words, excellent work!)

My poem of foretelling.

Reflections said...

Your doubt seems as strong as mine... oh, but the psychics do tell a good story for one to hope for, don't they. Excellent write!

Gloria said...

Once again I've enjoyed your rhyme
Each time I visit, I have a good time!