Brimful of Hippie!

Hippies with backpacks
Scarves in their hair
They’re all pierced and tattoed, but
Beautiful and fair!
Drumming a dholak
Singing a song
They’ve all got absurd
Harem pants on.
They’re barefoot and comfortable
In a strange land
(They’re talking in a language they think
No one understands)
Purple and pink, orange and blue!
A hippie’s life seems too good to be true!
Catch a camel to Egypt, caravan across the sand!
Stop by at Gizeh
Before a trip to Hindoo land!
Shopping in Turkey—
The Flying Carpet Land!
They’re guests of the Rajah’s
They’re friends of the Sheikh
Whose harem tells a thousand tales
Of magic and mystique!
They’re always traveling
They’re never at home
From Occident to Orient, and further,
They roam!
Momos and tikkis and sweetmeats they like
And hookahs, Oh do offer them some Turkish Delight!
There’s music and poetry mingling with the breeze
In the madness of moonlight, their minds are at ease…

I write this to the cadence of a hippie’s song
She’s seen me watching and singing along
Maybe I’ll go along with them today
Be another hippie on my way
To Egypt, then Turkey
And onward to the farthest shores
On caravans, visiting sheikhs and magic stores

Or maybe I’ll just be a vagrant, living the hippie way
Singing my songs, to my own beat, in the US of A…