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The Bandit

Rating: 5.0

Out of the sapphire shadows he creeps,
and into the dead of night he seeps.
In his prison grays, hiding from the light
of day, they call him, 'Bandit.'

He never walks, he stalks.
As the sun sinks, he prepares to slink,
through your open window.
Better beware. He'll find you
and your brightest treasures, too.

There's no escape from Bandit.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sandra Fowler 21 February 2007

What a delightful poem. A 'Bandit' like that would surely steal your heart. Beautiful, Mary. Warm regards, Sandra

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Bill Grace 19 February 2006

Mary, I like your letting your readers in on the secret in 'Bandit.' I appreciated the poem for its power but your explanation helped enhance, for myself, its overall power. 'War Win' is my attempt to accomplish something similar with a note at the end. Blessings, Bill Grace in San Antonio

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