Spellbound,
I am a prisoner
In my own recliner rocker
Held captive
Bound and gagged
By awe and fascination
As you ply your ancient tribal craft
And weave your potent spell
With eerie fascination
Transcending time and space
Not even the language barrier
Between our nations
Serves to diminish
Let alone quell
The power and magic
Of your equine demonstration.
You are loud, proud, arrogant
And self-assured
A show-off
Laced in leather
Revelling in the rapt attention
Of your swooning, circus audience
Not to mention
A brawny, brawling hot-head
A kind of gypsy "Tyson"
Used to having your own way
A masquerading,
Macho maestro
Undisputed boss
Of man and horse -
The "El Supremo"
Of Zingaro.
