A WARM WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF    THE GYPSY POET 
        
     
 
(please scroll down the page) 
 
                                             
 
The GYPSY POET is the site for lovers of free expression and Freedom- here you will discover a wealth of fascinating info on the World of Childrens Play,Gypsy life and lore and the county of Dorset.
Within scores of pages on all. 
The site also contains a wealth of original poems throughout many of which are my own work.
 
 
 
 

  

listen n watch one of my poetry readings
 

 

 

The Gypsy Poets reading courtesy of Bournemouth Echo
 
  CHILDS PLAY 
 
  PLATO AND CHILDS PLAY

 

Over 2,000 years ago Plato made the observation

 that any Society where children no longer played the games that their parents had played

 would be in danger of disintegrating.

 

Those street games, with all their vigour and creativity instilled values and developed social skills

 which sometimes seem to be lacking today. 

 

 

                                                                      

  

At THE GYPSYPOET you can read about and find out all that there is to know about the world of Childs Play and more.

 

The greatest illustrator of Children at play was undoubebly EILEEN SOPER

 

 EILEEN SOPER

 

 

 

 

 Here at TheGypsyPoet you can discover a wealth of fascinating information on what are three of my major passions. Childrens Play,the county of Dorset and Gypsies.

 

 

Read My ONLINE  Autobiography of my LIFE in Playwork entitled "What An Extraordinary Adventure"

 

 Read My Account of The History of Childs Play from biblical times to the present day.

 

 

ReadMy Account of The History of Organised Childrens Play Provision in the United Kingdom

 

Read My Childhood autobiography CHILDHOOD DAYS

 

 

read my childhood story at Sue Days Dorset Ancestry site. 

 

Read my published NPFA Handbook Contacts for advice and information in the community.

 All that readings exhausted me

 

 

DORSET DAYS

 

                           CLICK ON PIC  GOLD HILL SHAFTESBURY

                                          

 

HEARTS TOGETHER

 

 

 How emerald the chalky depths Below the Dancing Ledge!

We pulled the jelly-fishes up And threw them in the hedge

 That with its stones and sea-pink tufts Ran to the high cliff edge.

 

 And lucky was the jelly-fish That melted in the sun

And poured its vitals on the turf In self-effacing fun,

 Like us who in each other's arms Were seed and soul in one.

O rational the happy bathe An hour before our tea,

 When you were swimming breast-stroke,

 all Along the rocking sea

 

And, in between the waves, explain'd The Universe to me.

The Dorset sun stream'd on our limbs And scorch'd our hinder parts{:}

 We gazed into the pebble beach And so discussed the arts,

 O logical and happy we Emancipated hearts.

 

John Betjeman 

 

DORSETS FAMOUS ONES 

                                                                      

William Barnes       Thomas Hardy          Augustus John             Baden Powell         T.E.Lawrence                 Enid Blytonn 

 

 

 

           Delve into the Dorset countryside

             Bournemouth   Click the pic    through its fascinating history.

 

Read about the people  who helped to shape its memories and fashion its unique character.

 

 Read my Autobiograpical book "CHILDHOOD DAYS" on my Dorset Childhood

 

  

View fabulous pictures of Canford Heath

 

 

 

GYPSY LIFE AND LORE

 

  Delve into the history of the gypies nationally and locally through their lore and cultures with links to all the best sites to be found online.

 

Plus my gypsy poems.

 

 ODE TO THE GYPSY POETS 
 Ode to the gypsy poets with their transcipt words of rhyme
 to the heather and the corn field the barley and the vine
 ode to the makeshift homes there where the sun came up each day
 where the rabbits and the foxgloves greets each new spring borne day
 
 ode to the routes they travelled with their wayward caravans
with the light of god to guide them with fate to take their hand
ode to the land that breathed there the willows and the oak
the songs they sang at daybreak the natures brand new coats
 
 ode to the Gypsy language the lore and dreams they told
 the fortune telling ladies the lamp stands made of gold
 ode to the labor's offered the fairgrounds and the dust
the many heartaches suffered the romance and the lust
 
 ode to their weary burdens their skills that were renowned
 the sands of time will comfort them in God we know they trust
ode to their intutitions their wisdom and their joys
 the children full of laughter the dreams of girl and boy
 

 

                                                                                        

 

Gypsy wedding Devon 1910.

 

 

        GYPSIES and RACIALISM EXPOSED  

 

             

          MY  POETRY           

 

click pic 

 

Glimpse into my wide range of poetry from a wealth of poems I have composed over the years.

Just scroll down this page and read a small selection of my recent poems.

Then look into my pages of poetry on the top left pages lists to suit all tastes.

 

POEM OF THE DAY FEBUARY 3RD 2010

 

 

Piccadilly's charitable angel

 

 

 There's a statue in London which folks all adore

 its a monument crafted for lovers amour

 its a christian angel with Charity's wings

with an arrow that's pointed and a message that sings

 

 some say its Eros some say its cool

its a tribute to shaftesburys visions and rules

 to the children who suffered down mines in factories bleak

 its there to remind us of his goodness and meek

 

the lovers all say its a reason to kiss

under the moonlight in heavenly bliss

 its a statue that's pointing to Dorset's fair plains

 a reminder to keep the laws rich and sane

 

 lord shaftesbury was famous for children he cared

 he was one in a million to the good lord he prayed

he brought in the acts through Westminster's halls

 he was wise and so charitable and the kids he adored

 

BACK STREETS OF POOLE

 

 The squires lived in the back streets of Poole

 with no boots on their feet but with hearts that were true

 the lamplighter lady she lit up each morn

so bright and so early to wake you at dawn

 

the streets there were narrow and the bread they all shared

  there were skipping of ropes and singing of bairnes

 the docks they were rich there and the fishes were sweet

 with cockles and winkles and rags on their feet

 

 the rag and bone man rode the streets every week

 with horse cart and shouting to all he did greet

 there were neighbor's a plenty to help you in need

 with cheerful rich chatter and words oh so sweet

 

 the noblemen passed there and rarely did gain

access to the comforts of their little lanes

 there were sailors a courting and maids at your door

 kisses and promises and soldiers at war the streets

 

the streets then were cobbled though none did complain

 for the richness was theirs down those narrow dark lanes

 with families large and mothers to gain

 with another babe wanting another broods name

 

 the railways they came there from old Waterloo

with stories of gentlemen said how do you do

 but the streets they were poor and the children they died

all for the sake of a rich mans wealth tide

 

                                        

 

 IF

 

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you

But make allowance for their doubting too,

 

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

 

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

 

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,

 

If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

 

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

 

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breath a word about your loss;

 

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

 

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

 

Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much,

 

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

 

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son

 

RUDYARD KIPLING

 

                               

  Elizabeth Fancy                              Augustus John 

 

 

                                

                                              

        Canford Heath                             Lady Wimborne

BOURNEMOUTH 

                                                                                                               

                        

 

All poems on this site are the works of Ray Wills apart from those named.

 

There are many many more of my poems on this site on my poetry pages. 

 

 

  

visit my  CONTACT page or look in my

 

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I hope that you will enjoy your visit to THE GYPSY POET and return here often.  

 

    THE GYPSY POET /Click ON The Artist