Poem: Thief

Come to me
in the silence of the night,
haunting the spaces of the dwelling,
like a lingering perfume from flowers long gone,
or the first light of the full moon casting.

Come to me in the quite of the night,
like soft crunching of leaves in autumn,
or the heavy fall of rain in spring,
rustling up emotions violently,
or the whisper of the wind that speaks in voices unbeknownst.

Come once all are asleep,
treading as light as a thief,
with your perfume enticing,
trick the mind with charms,
uttering words that weave a tale seducing,
and have me write,
your word per word,
as if without them I’m dying.

Come like a thief,
come duly,
make a habit of stealing,
my hours away from me.
…,your word per word
as if without them I’m dying…

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I'm a writer of stories I'd love to read. I dream of being a best-selling author one day, but don't we all? I'd also love to work as a scriptwriter in Hollywood. Dreams that seem impossible really, but I'm gutsy/dumb enough to try. l love all things paper and pen. Believe me, I collect them. I write novels, poems and scripts. I paint. I have two Kindle novels, In Strange Company, and Charming Mr. Stewart on Amazon.com Follow me and my progress on my blog, www.papermashed.com, on Twitter @evacharya, Facebook 'Author/Filmmaker- Eva Acharya', and sign up for my email.

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