*Fur est Arca: Codes and Colon*
John F. Buoye 2017
I have a golden jewel
High-priced as it unwittingly fell
Off the muggee’s tender neck
Into my bandit mental wreck.
I am a thief of fine gold
Of precious stones and diamond cold
Ripping and hauling from feminine nape
Down to my bizarre, cold and yearning cape.
Wealth as meek as kind velvet
I fear may never be yours to covet
This all about my box run
As water damaged pipes have borne.
Wealth to the poor and scarce to the rich
Gentleness much like the sand of the beach
These are ornaments of gold and fine silver lining
But into my hands the enduring pearl has fallen.
I am a bandit of golden jewel
My trade so sacred who can tell?
Missy and young, determined and strong
All in my cottage with words I have strung
Thieving, deceiving, relentless in madness
The maiden is mine, with mouth she’ll confess.
Larger and larger; the box of a thief
I’d sing of all it promises to be brief.