The Thief


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.