Treasure Island

Owain Glyn


PickPockets.


When you first put your arms around me,
I could feel the warmth of you.
I could trace the beat of your heart.
When your lips brushed mine,
And you smiled,
I was hypnotized, mesmerized.
When you turned and left,
I had no idea what I'd done wrong,
You were lost in the throng.
It was only then, I realized,
That your thin, cold, razor,
Had cut the strings of my heart,
That you had stolen it.
What value could it have been to you? ?
Then, I learned that you keep hearts as trophies.
I should tell you,
That while you were busy,
I secreted your heart,
In my pocket.
It now sits on a plinth, in my display cabinet.
Would you like to meet?
On a mist dressed bridge,
Early one morning?
Where, like guilty governments,
We can make an exchange? ? .....
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Owain Glyn

Submitted: Monday, June 03, 2013
Edited: Friday, August 02, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The theft of hearts.

Comments about this poem (PickPockets. by Owain Glyn )

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  • Diane Hine (6/14/2013 7:37:00 AM)

    Those cold hearts need to be returned to their rightful owners. Fascinating and original approach to a familiar theme. (Report) Reply

  • Danny Draper (6/11/2013 5:15:00 PM)

    Love does seem like the work of spies at times, different agendas and different sides, but when it is lime the movie Mr and Mrs Smith, then it is too good. I wonder if they ever met on that bridge and noticed beneath in the matte silk silence, two ships passing with nonchalant disregard. (Report) Reply

  • Lynne Fincherspringarden (6/6/2013 6:37:00 PM)

    Very original thought! ! The sad experiences in life and ill treatment by others for whom we have freely given our love and our hearts does rob us of a sacred piece of our soul. It steals from us who we were in our innocence. However the thought that we might have kept something of theirs to hold as hostage which can at some point be exchanged is an entirely new way of viewing this phenomena. How wonderfully original. (Report) Reply

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