Faces Graced In Stone

The audience was full of thieves,
could feel their steely eyes appraise
the pickings as they gazed with
calculated stare, assessing where

the treasure lay. Their silence was
a form of praise, naive and blind to
fits of rage that surged within the
mass of faces graced in stone.

I’m not alone tonight, he sighed,
I’ll make them smile, I’ll light their
eyes and lift their hearts, part the
waves that rock the boats, steal

their dreams in words sung dark and
low, words that float in tears they’ve
cried – and when they’re dried
they’ll know I’m home.
© 29 March 2007, I.D. Carswell