The Gypsies Rose

A Gypsy Man called ‘The Rose' once bloomed and blossomed in the bright sunshine of true love. He travelled from town to town all over the Kingdom and stole the hearts of many a fair and noble young lady, whether she was married or not. The King’s Men had him arrested one fine day and charged him in front of the Grand Judge and the Great Lawman with robbery and the theft of true hearts of love. The Judge and the Lawman then had no choice but to give him the strictest and most severe penalty of law and punishment. They sentenced him to prison to be locked up alone for a very long time. Here he sat in his dark and lonely prison cell and wiled the days and the months away. Many long years he would sit here and pay for his terrible crimes of love and passion amongst all the fair ladies of the Kingdom and country. The seasons passed summer after winter and his tiny room was dark and forbidding indeed. A grim and gloomy place beyond measure. The darkness engulfed his soul and the cell was black as night. The days were long and the lonesome dark nights even longer. He longed for love and freedom deeply and so began to grow towards the light of the sunshine outside of the prison bars. The Rose of his true love wrapped itself around and around the bars of the prison window, always searching for the sunlight and the deep love and passion of freedom. He was twisted and turned around and around the prison bars as the warm sunshine seeked his soul from outside of the prison windows. One day the Gypsy Man died of loneliness and longing in that cold and dark cell and when the prison warders came to remove his dead body, they saw the most beautiful red rose of love that had curled itself around and around the bars of the prison window. It was eternally blooming with the most lovely red roses of love and passion forever thereafter. It was a majestic memory of his soul of true love for all time to come. Sometimes true love blooms and blossoms even in our darkest hours. Some called him a convict. Some called him a thief. A rose by any other name is still a rose. May you bloom on forever the beautiful flower of life.