Stolen Jewels

Spring is here and God,

it's begun again

The killing season.

Lock up your daughters

Hide away your wives

Something that's less than human

Has ended his hibernation

And anxious to feed

His empty, savage soul

Has wakened.


Nameless, shameless

Something not quite animal

What is it, tell me

What is it

That a person

Can't feel safe

In their own home

Or on their street

And for many women

In their own beds

What is it?


Dear Lord, I look up

In a sky where but

A few bright stars

Brave the city's illumination

And thinking, remembering

In this vast country

There are mostly places

Where stars shine

In the sky

And I sometimes think

Maybe some of those stars

Are the souls of stolen jewels

Looking down.


But God,

If there were a way

To save the innocent ones

I'd gladly trade

Every star in the sky

For the gems here among us

Shining brightly,

Shining brightly.


Instead I know

One day not too long from now

The treasure chest will again

Be plundered

My heart clenches.


Stolen jewels

Sparkle, sparkle

Where ever they are


I hope

Dear God

I hope.


11/5/92 C.M. Harris Davies  (author's note:   I wrote this in honour of Kirsten French.  When will this ever end?)