The Thief Poem by Josephine Dunn

He was no gallant knight
On swift and snowy steed
But a dark dishonoured priest
Who served his personal need.

Yet with courtly words he spake
His language clear and bold
As he began to charm her
With stories weirdly told.

With intellect and cunning
He lured her to his lair
With devious skill and purpose
He laid the lady bare.

With surgeon's deft precision
He flayed her pearly skin
Cut deep into her bosom
And slid his fingers in.

With acquisitive intention
And a calculated look
His iceberg hands delved deeply
As tender heart he took.

This organ neatly severed
Clasped tight to chilly chest
Not one tear of remorse
Did fall upon her breast.

For now the priest did turn
To task more dark than death
To steal the lady's soul
As she expired her dying breath.

With subtle incantations
The spell he did begin
To commit no petty larceny
But full-blown mortal sin.

So damned for all eternity
Are priest and lady both
As souls are lost and stolen
And pledged in troubled troth.

If lust had failed to force
What love would freely have given
Then they would end their days
In everlasting heaven.


January 2005