‘The Silent Thief..’
It crept in soft ‘pon velvet feet,
a yesterday to steal;
A birdsong day all summer scents,
fair seasoned and genteel.
So small a day it scarce was missed,
one rain drop lost the brook;
Two dozen hours from all a life,
so easily mistook.
And in its stead did leave discard,
a fogged and dull lit gloom;
All hid behind familiar doors,
a strange and empty room.
I missed that one day not so much,
nor yet the next it stole;
A dirty day all damps and blows,
that scarce but left a hole.
Or bare the next, if truth be told,
or was it one before?
When sly it took a friend’s kind face,
from out an unlocked drawer.
And with it neatly enveloped,
all fastened with a bow;
A sheaf of happy memories,
once held and treasured so…
Til ‘fore I knew each other day,
or least I felt it so;
Fell silent ‘hind a rust hinged door,
through which I could not go.
No care to how I threw my locks,
or latched each window tight;
Another precious jewel was stole,
with each new morning light.
As if I held all of my life,
within these helpless hands;
Which day on day, try as I might,
slipped through like time’s cruel sands.
And so; I roam these labyrinths,
each crueller than the last;
In search some brightly open door,
to window on my past.
Dark corridors within my mind,
all tortured twist and bend;
And wooden troops dressed arms apart,
these doors, on guard, extend.
On, on, to twist each hard seized knob,
test each reluctant key;
To beg a bright familiar room,
that still remembers me.
With arms outspread to take me in,
all fold in its embrace;
Oh! Let me hold between my hands,
one full remembered face.
To know the hearth that embers there,
and bathe within its glow;
Beg gaze upon my grandchild’s face,
and breathe “I love you so..”
Or would that every kindly soul,
that smiled with love on me;
Might not, all gaoled, ‘hind dead-locked doors,
forever strangers be…
When in that demon’s maze I found,
all in his khaki suit;
My dearest love made young again,
my daring young recruit.
Rose young from under Flanders’ field,
and home the dreadful war;
Come steadfast ‘cross these work worn years,
to free my mind’s locked door.
So know you when I sightless stare,
my senses, thoughtless, flown;
Though lost your vale of tears my love,
that I am not alone…
Poet Laureate, New Westminster, BC
President, Royal City Literary Arts
Honorary Professor International Arts Acadamy, Greece
Board Advisor, Interantional Muse, India
Board Advisor, Federation of British Columbia Writers
Candice James is Poet Laureate of New Westminster, B.C. and President of Royal City Literary Arts Society. She is a poet, musician, songwriter and author of six poetry books A Split In The Water (Fiddlehead 1979);Inner Heart―A Journey; (2010), Bridges and Clouds (2011); Midnight Embers–A Book of Sonnets (2012); Shorelines-A Book of Villanelles (2013); and Ekphrasticism (2014). Websites: http://saddlestone.shawwebspace.ca and www.candicjames.com