Silver-potted ashes of my Self burned
In a covetous flame now overturned
Seem the profoundest of mud as I weep
And, for once, I feel so very concerned.
I have taken from men jewels and dreams,
Perfumed linens, watches; I have torn seams
And pocketed and pilfered wingèd things
All so I could fly over honest streams.
You know, I had my heart stolen one year;
Youth was a thin cocoon and Love’s so queer
It was enough to make one mad at it
So I decided I would take what’s near.
When I opened a purse I took I found
An invite to the Chatelaine’s compound,
So I know I must go; I must go there
When she hosts and I am suddenly crowned.
The Chatelaine is like a chardonnay,
Her hair fair, her words a silky bouquet;
Once, she read my cards with no reversals
So when the message was clear, I did pay.
The greatest theft is of Art and I paint
A jewel when I want to be a saint
And take a pearl when I need to feel blessed;
Tomorrow, I will need and take restraint.