Related quotes: Sitting in a black chair...

Death of a Therapist

Sitting in a black chair

After a heavy drink

Hanging from a light fitting

Face down on the floor

Who killed the therapist?

Nobody is sure

That night she left the latch off

The back door

There was a twitchy curtain at number 24

A psychotic son aged 21 and on the run

The cops are looking for

Was it in the dish she ate at exactly a quarter past eight

Every night

She had turned an awful shade of green a ghastly sight!

Or was it in the glass of burgundy she liked to drink at nine

Did someone tamper with her chicken kievs?

Did someone spike her wine?

Or did she simply DIE?

YES DIE Lie DEAD as a dodo for hours on the floor?

No flowers, no wild applauses

Just behind the door

The coroner had a twitch when he said 'Natural causes'

But still they're looking for

A man called moses who leaves roses for the poor and outside unsuspecting doors

The curtain twitcher at number24

A chef called mabel who had a problem with drink and spoke to the shrink, face to face, leaving a gift of fine burgundy wine in a bright
yellow case on the side

A son on the run with a gun who hated his mum and thought the shrink had taken her in, to hide her from him

Were they 'Identical twins? '

An old man with a dribble and a grudge with an oversized head

Had wished the shrink dead

For stealing his fudge and leaving him cold in his bed

Or casinova Dan tha 'man' she left him for

Who left her lipstick love notes by the door

Afraid that she would stalk him kept his bunny by his bed

Then fled after finishing her off

Settling the dust of an unsettled score?

The mystery remains unsolved

But much later dead clients were found

One lying in the laundry basket 'upside down'

A body floating in the swimming pool where she had drowned

And a cupboard full of strangers hanging up with coats

Marked 'lost and found! '

The therapist had been a serial killer for sometime

Some put put it down to ingesting Mabel's 'Toxic wine'

Mabel was arrested for her brutal crime

But a shadow of doubt was cast across the jury

Because she always arrived after nine never in time

And the wine on the side was not red

Rumour has it she hit her head

Fell back in the chair

Slid onto the floor

And was found face down

By Mabel who broke down the door

All admitted she took fright and quitted the scene in shock

Without calling the cops

She was acquitting found Not Guilty! for knocking her off

Sent to rehab to dry out threw all her licquor out

But a shadow of doubt still continues to hang over,

Casanova Dan

The dribbling man

The son on the run with a gun, only 21

And now postman called Fred

Who found mrs P dead at number 24

And was seen to be dragging a large parcel away from the door

poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

San Francisco Mabel Joy

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the some days are diamonds album, and has also been released on the changes album.
His daddy was a simple man, just a red dirt georgia farmer
And his momma spent her young life havin kids and balin hay
He had fifteen years and an ache inside to wander
So he hopped a freight in waycross and wound up in l.a.
Lord, the cold nights had no pity on a waycross, georgia farm boy
Most days he went hungry, then the summer came
He met a girl known on the strip as san franciscos mabel joy
Destitutions child born of an l.a. street called shame
Growin up came quietly in the arms of mabel joy
Laughter found their mornings brought meaning to his life
Yes, the night before she left sleep came and left that waycross, georgia boy
With dreams of georgia cotton and a california wife
Sunday morning found him standin neath the red light at her door
When a right cross sent him reelin, put him face down on the floor
In place of mabel joy he found a merchant mad marine
Who growled, your georgia neck is red but sonny, youre still green
He turned twenty-one in a gray rock fedral prison
The old judge had no mercy for a waycross, georgia boy
Starin at those four gray walls in silence he would listen
To that midnight freight he knew would take him back to mabel joy
Sunday mornin found him standin neath the red light at her door
With a bullet in his side, he cried, have you seen mabel joy?
Stunned and shaken someone said, why, shes not here no more
She left this house four years today, they say shes lookin for some gergia farm boy
Words and music by mickey newbury

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Face To Face

Now I've got a chick who will be with me
Anytime, day or night
But I won't put up with no runnin' around
You know it just ain't right
I'm going down...
To the town -
Out to go drink with the clowns
You stay at home...
All alone -
And don't you talk on the phone
You're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You're comin' face to face with me, like it or not
When I got to town
The words going 'round
That you've been seen on your back
I open the door and you were on the floor
Spreadin' for the clowns in my pack
Now you were wrong...
If you thought -
I'd take it lyin' down like a dog
I put a match...
In her snatch
She thinks she's such a hot little vamp
You're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You comn' face to face with me, like it or not
Tear your face apart
Waste you in the dark
Rip you like a shark
Won't think you're so smart
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face
Face to face
Face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Your're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You're comin' face to face with me, like it or not
You're cominc12

song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Memory Of Love

I came upon a house so bare.
I knew there could be no one there.
I wished to enter so I knocked.
No one answered. The door was locked.
I saw a window through which I peered
and saw it looked just as I feared,
lonely, deserted, cold and musty
cobwebs hanging, everything dusty.

The need to go inside
was an urgency I could not hide.
Should I break the door or shatter the pane?
Encouragement came when I felt the rain.
I entered slowly and looked around
amazed and astounded at what I found.
Every room was empty but for one,
a bedroom with chair facing towards sun.

Beside the chair was a frame
holding the picture of a girl with no name.
Curiosity got the best of me
so I turned it over and I did see
her name scribbled hastily.
'Janette, my love I give to you
this picture I love to sit and view.'
and then I placed it back.

The house was no longer cold to me
for it housed a loving memory.
I left it right beside the chair
as if the lover still was there.
Upon leaving the bedroom I closed the door
so it would stay as it was before.
My intrusion on this private place
as I exited left a smile on my face.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Stole Our Outhouse? (Fun Poem, But True)

Several drunken revellers were walking home late Saturday night
When they passed McDougal’s farm and they spied a sight
There behind the farmhouse was an old wooden shack
The outhouse stood tall and noble out back
One had a good idea for a jolly spoof
‘Lets lift the outhouse and put it the up on the roof.’
‘But which roof, there are several there? ’
The others looked and grinned ear to ear
‘Lets stick it on the barn, there is a ladder over there.’
So at two o’clock in the morning they went to work full of glee
But they had to be as quiet as could be

Tipping the outhouse on its side
They carried it to the barn
Then got the ladders from along side the farm house
They leant them against the wooden wall
Then pushed and pulled the outhouse to the roof
Placing it on the top, watched it dangle there
Someone found some wood
To wedge under it, to secure it there.
The drunken revellers made their retreat
They hide behind a hedge, and as they were beat
They fell asleep there before the fun began

McDougal awoke at five that morning
Out to the outhouse he went for a sit
He always said it helped with his concentration
Half asleep he wandered out to the back
Out to the little old wooden shack
As he went to open the door
He suddenly realised the outhouse wasn’t there anymore
‘EE Gads! ! ’ He shouted as he had nowhere to sit
He ran to tell his wife the lovely Mabel-Pitt
‘Someone has stolen our little old wooden shack
The one we love to sit in out back.’

Mabel-Pitt put on her dressing gown
And came down to the door
‘McDougal what are you shouting for? ’
‘Someone has stolen our outhouse and left us with only the pit.’
‘You mean our double seated place where we love to sit? ’
‘Yes my dear, it is really gone,
all that is left is a hole in the ground.’
‘There is no alternative McDougal, dear.’
‘What is that my honey beer? ’
‘You’ll have to sit behind the hedge.’
Unbeknown the revellers were fast asleep there.

As McDougal started to walk to the hedge
He spotted the shadow from the barn
There seemed to be something wrong there
Turning he gasped at the sight
There on the roof the outhouse stood out against the morning light
‘I have found it my Mabel-Pitt. It is up there.’
Pointing his finger skyward in the air.
‘Where? ’ she asked running in her dressing gown.
Then looked around and gave such a frown.
‘We can’t go up there for a sit,
there isn’t anything under it, not even a pit.’

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sitting In Silence

Sitting still in silence of all the lies.
This thing inside which was once so alive
is now sick and tired, watch as it dies!
The deciet many like me come to meet,
we tried! We fought in that battle with pride!
And can now see it can no longer hide
the deciet is found it can not survive!
So this that was once a room of laughter,
is a fighter along side an actor
sorry, actress, who deserves a bafter
remember how friends, family would gather?
We got out wine glasses that now shatter,
the colour of red stains the kitchen floor
its not wine, we don't drink wine anymore,
I wait, wait for them to come through the door.
Cold, but you can not say I never feel
because these scars you left will never heel!
I'm strong because a grown man never cries,
sitting, still in silence of all the lies.

poem by Daniel McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red, Sparkling Wine

I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …

… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…

She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …

… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…

… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …

of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…

She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…

Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…

She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …

poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Comfort Of A Drunken Mind

Lipstick on an empty glass
A Memory of a smile
In my time, don’t you know?
Young girls vied for my attention
Always posing, Heartbreaker to women was I.

God, I will never see her smile again
Her voice silent to me
Inside I am a flower without rain
A musician without music
My love waits in a queue,
Full of fools, and whiskey bottles

Ahhh another drink
Yes tomorrow, will be better

I remember her stare,
Sitting on that chair,
That damn chair.
Drink Darling?
My Blossom of the night,
A smooth talker me.

I broke her dreams
Now Petals on a stormy sea
I remember her scent
Now washed away on the hurricanes breath
Called Whisky

Ahh another drink, she won’t leave me?
Damn that empty chair
To bed, the morning will bring her back

The bottle sleeps
And the sandman paints his illusions
Dreams invulnerable to reality
The glow of dawn, incinerates these imposters
Fabricated in the monsoon of a drowning brain

Cornflakes and Barley wine, a man’s breakfast
What now, a snifter I think and another thought?

Love has left this empty chair
Where dreams and happiness dwelt
Where futures were planned
And where love flowed, intoxicating our lives.

Still, the empty glass remains.
Ahh, another drink, and another illusion to comfort my soul

The bottle is my love now,
And the empty chair, my sentence.
That damned empty chair
Ahh did I tell you, once I was a heartbreaker?
Come Share a drink with me friend?

poem by Steven Cooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Lilies For Lisette

Said the Door: "She came in
With no shadow of sin;
Turned the key in the lock,
Slipped out of her frock,
The robe she liked best
When for supper she dressed.
Then a letter she tore . . .
What a wan look she wore!"
Said the Door.

Said the Chair: "She sat down
With a pitiful frown,
And then (oh, it's queer)
Just one lonely tear
Rolled down her pale cheek.
How I hoped she would speak
As she let down her hair,"
Said the Chair.

Said the Glass: "Then she gazed
Into me like one dazed;
As with delicate grace
She made up her face,
Her cheeks and her lips
With rose finger-tips,
So lovely - alas!
Then she turned on the gas."
Said the Glass.

Said the Bed: "Down she lay
In a weariful way,
Like an innocent child,
To her fate reconciled;
Hands clasped to her breast,
In prayer or in rest:
'Dear Mother,' she said,
Then pillowed her head,"
Said the Bed.

Said the Room: "Then the gleam
Of the moon like a dream,
Soft silvered my space,
And it fell on her face
That was never so sweet
As her heart ceased to beat . . .
Then the moon fled and gloom
Fell like funeral plume,"
Said the Room.

"Just a whore,"
Said the Door;
"Yet so fair,"
Said the Chair;
"Frail, alas!"
Said the Glass;
"Now she's dead,"
Said the Bed;
"Sorry doom,"
Said the Room. . . .

Then they all,
Floor and wall,
Quiet grew,
Ceiling too;
Like a tomb
Was the room;
With hushed breath
Hailing Death:
Soul's release,
Silence, Peace.

poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Full Of You

Cardboard boxes on the floor
They contain memories and so much more
Black and white photographs
Faded now but I remember how we laughed
Theres nothing left for me to do
Ive an empty house, full of you
Pour myself a glass of wine
Let it breathe but I dont give it too much time
Take another and set it down
I kid myself theres nobody else around
Theres nothing left for me to do
Ive an empty glass, full of you
But let me tell you baby
I cant fight the feeling
I never stopped believing
You were coming back to me
I hear footsteps by the door
Could it be theres nothing else that I want more
There you stand in front of me
I see your face my heart has wings you set me free
Theres nothing left for me to do
Now my empty heart, is full of you
But let me tell you baby
I cant fight the feeling
I never stopped believing
You were coming back to me
Let me tell you darling
Never did I doubt you
I cant live without you
Its so good youre back with me

song performed by by Rick Astley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Photograph

Look at this photograph
Everytime I do it makes me laugh
How did our eyes get so red
And what the hell is on Joey's head

And this is where I grew up
I think the present owner fixed it up
I never knew we'd ever went without
The second floor is hard for sneaking out

And this is where I went to school
Most of the time had better things to do
Criminal record says I broke in twice
I must have done it half a dozen times

I wonder if it's too late
Should i go back and try to graduate
Life's better now than it was back then
If I was them I wouldn't let me in

Oh, oh, oh
Oh, god, I

Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.

Remember the old arcade
Blew every dollar that we ever made
The cops hated us hangin' out
They say somebody went and burned it down

We used to listen to the radio
And sing along with every song we know
We said someday we'd find out how it feels
To sing to more than just the steering wheel

Kim's the first girl I kissed
I was so nervous that I nearly missed
She's had a couple of kids since then
I haven't seen her since god knows when

Oh, oh, oh
Oh, god, I

I miss that town
I miss the faces
You can't erase
You can't replace it
I miss it now
I can't believe it
So hard to stay
Too hard to leave it

If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change

Look at this photograph
Everytime I do it makes me laugh
Everytime I do it makes me...

poem by Sirius White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Face On The Cutting Room Floor

Shes history
No one would give her a star on the walk
Shed have a hundred if pillows could talk
Where have I seen her before?
Shes the face on the cutting room floor
Its no mystery
Acting in school at the tenderest age
Lit up the room when she stepped on the stage
Came to la for some more
Shes the face on the cutting room floor
She had visions of contracts
And thousands of people in line
To see her;
Knocking on door after door after all of this time,
Now shes not sure
Up in hollywood
Stayed with an agent she met in a bar
Laughed when he told her hed make her a star
Where has she heard that before?
Shes the face on the cutting room floor
One night he told her that shed never get anywhere
In her clothes
Thats what it takes to play movieland musical chairs
Now she knows
Goodbye hollywood
Leaving tonight on the 2:30 hound
Sunrise or sunset she wont be around
But theyll replace her with so many more
Shes the face on the cutting room floor
Poor little face on the cutting room floor

song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home

Years I had been from home,
And now, before the door
I dared not open, lest a face
I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine
And ask my business there.
My business, - just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve,
I scanned the windows near;
The silence like an ocean rolled,
And broke against my ear.

I laughed a wooden laugh
That I could fear a door,
Who danger and the dead had faced,
But never quaked before.

I fitted to the latch
My hand, with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off
As cautiously as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house.

poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I years had been from home,

I years had been from home,
And now, before the door,
I dared not open, lest a face
I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine
And ask my business there.
My business,--just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve,
I scanned the windows near;
The silence like an ocean rolled,
And broke against my ear.

I laughed a wooden laugh
That I could fear a door,
Who danger and the dead had faced,
But never quaked before.

I fitted to the latch
My hand, with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off
As cautiously as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house.

poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Menu

It seemed I would dine on heartbreak
Every night that I came to know
Until you came knocking on my door
Brought me a new menu to live by
Dining on kisses and laughter
With a side dish of a best friend
The old meals became forgotten
Where a new pallet was brought
And I’ll make that call sometime soon
Delivery to my door from your menu
Come knocking again any night
Bring to me a healthy dish to eat
Let us dine on a meal for two
Conversation starters followed by a kiss
And the laughter we drink together
It seemed I would dine on heartache
Then you found me or I found you
And now in the night we dine
On something we can call healthy
Chosen from our menu

poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brown Paper Bag

Brown paper bag

Squalid incomplete

slumped to the side of the street

Like unwanted sacks of garbage

She left her track her smell

And like the brown paper bag

She had travelled well

She had a whole world in her head

Her first love

The man she wed

And the drink and the smoke

And the four o clock bloke

That returned with a bottle in a brown paper bag

And better days before

When she had carried her first round fruit

When the brown paper bag was waxed new

And he carried his bride to the door

Then the four o clock bloke

Full of stale wine and stale smoke

With a bottle in a brown paper bag

How he called her a hag

And that first punch to the floor

And the brown paper bags fell by her side

Crumpled and stained

And the liquor cans and the four o clock man

Who never spoke

Left her broke

Bones shattered in pieces

Flesh bare to the wind

Body out on the street

Skin tanned dirt brown

Hair matted locks

And two brown paper bags tied with string to her feet

yvette m smith 11.2.09

poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me & My Wine

Oh yeah
C'mon
Oh yeah
Oh, well i'm down in the alley of sally
And i'm feeling my way
And it's four in the morning
I don't have a lot i can say
I know i'm looking for some satisfaction
But there ain't much news
Got some walking from a back reaction
I'm hanging down and loose
Oh me and the boys have been drinking
Feeling like this is the wrong time for thinking
All i can say is
I'm doing fine with just me and my wine
Now my brain and my body are runnin' on different rails
And i died and just say hi what if all else fails
Oh i woke up in a subway station
Lying half dead on the floor
I don't remember anything that happened the night before
Now listen
My hair's a real mess
I feel and look like a joke
And there's a hole in my jeans
I just went right of smokes
You know i'd like to get to know you
But i ain't got the time
I'm tryin' harder and harder
To make this damn thing right
Just me and my wine
Well just me and my wine
You know that i'm doing fine
Well just me and my wine
Ow
Thank you!

song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Confession

‘I'm ill, I'm ill, ' said Rockingham,
‘I'm ill, ' then took to his bed,
He tossed and turned in his fever there
As the visions danced in his head.
He couldn't tell if the world outside
Was real, or a crazy dream,
But muttered into the night, instead
Of some of the things he'd seen.

His wife, Marie, was a surly wench
She said, ‘I'll not be a nurse!
I'll not be tied to a sick man's bed
And left the room, with a curse.
She called the maid and she told her: ‘Sit!
And mop at the old man's brow,
I'll be abroad in the coach and six,
If he dies, go milk the cow! '

The fever turned to delerium
As he tossed and turned all night,
The doctor came, and he feared for him
As he lay in the grey twilight,
He used up seventeen leeches as
He blooded him, full sore,
But Rockingham was a haunted man
From a time of long before.

From time to time, he would sit up straight
And stare, with an awful dread,
As the ghost of Harold Murchison
Would hover, over his bed.
‘Don't come for me, it was my Marie
That you wanted - She was a witch!
If only you'd taken her off from me,
She's such a God-awful bitch! '

He fell back onto the pillow, cried
At the mess he'd made of his life,
And the worst mistake he'd ever made
Was to make Marie his wife,
She'd married him for the Castle gate
And the pride of a titled name,
But her love had stayed with Murchison
And she saw him, just the same.

At midnight they had hurried the priest
And the constable came too,
‘I think he'll be dead by morning, ' said
The doc: ‘Not much I can do! '
But Rockingham tossed as one quite lost
While the ghost lay in his mind,
‘It's true, it's true! What was I to do?
I poisoned her Harry's wine! '

He fell back onto the pillow, slept
In the peace of the almost dead,
For Murchison had faded away
At the words that he'd just said,
He woke that morn when a thunderstorm
Flash-flooded over the floor,
His eyes were bright from his endless night,
But the hangman stood at the door!

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turkish Song Of The Damned

I come old friend from hell tonight
Across the rotting sea
Nor the nails of the cross
Nor the blood of christ
Can bring you help this eve
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
They stand outside your door
Four score and three
Did you keep a watch for the dead mans wind
Did you see the woman with the comb in her hand
Wailing away on the wall on the strand
As you danced to the turkish song of the damned
You remember when the ship went down
You left me on the deck
The captains corpse jumped up
And threw his arms around my neck
For all these years Ive had him on my back
This debt cannot be paid with all your jack
And as I sit and talk to you I see your face go white
This shadow hanging over me
Is no trick of the light
The spectre on my back will soon be free
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Messenger

She rose up in the early dawn,
And white and silently she moved
About the house. Four men had gone
To battle for the land they loved,
And she, the mother and the wife,
Waited for tidings from the strife.
How still the house seemed! and her tread
Was like the footsteps of the dead.

The long day passed; the dark night came.
She had not seen a human face.
Some voice spoke suddenly her name.
How loud it echoed in that place,
Where, day on day, no sound was heard
But her own footsteps. 'Bring you word,'
She cried to whom she could not see,
'Word from the battle-plain to me?'

A soldier entered at the door,
And stood within the dim firelight;
'I bring you tidings of the four,'
He said, 'who left you for the fight.'
'God bless you, friend,' she cried, 'speak on!
For I can bear it. One is gone?'
'Ay, one is gone!' he said. 'Which one?'
'Dear lady, he, your eldest son.'

A deathly pallor shot across
Her withered face; she did not weep.
She said: 'It is a grievous loss,
But God gives His belovèd sleep.
What of the living-of the three?
And when can they come back to me?'
The soldier turned away his head:
'Lady, your husband, too, is dead.'

She put her hand upon her brow;
A wild, sharp pain was in her eyes.
'My husband! Oh, God, help me now!'
The soldier heard her shuddering sighs.
The task was harder than he thought.
'Your youngest son, dear madam, fought
Close at his father's side; both fell
Dead, by the bursting of a shell.'

She moved her lips and seemed to moan.
Her face had paled to ashen gray:
'Then one is left me-one alone,'
She said, 'of four who marched away.
Oh, overruling, All-wise God,
How can I pass beneath Thy rod!'
The soldier walked across the floor,
Paused at the window, at the door,

Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek
And sought the mourner's side again.
'Once more, dear lady, I must speak:
Your last remaining son was slain
Just at the closing of the fight,
'Twas he who sent me here to-night.'
'God knows,' the man said afterward,
'The fight itself was not so hard.'

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Steal Of The Night

The band had just started when they walked in the door
He sat her at a table and strolled out on the floor
He grabbed the first sweet thang that gave him the eye
And left the door open for the steal of the night
Three dances later she was still in her chair
He was still on the dance floor like he didnt care
So I eased on over, there was no ring in sight
And I found myself facing the steal of the night.
(chorus)
She was the steal of the night,
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He long hair flowing and her jeans so tight
I held her close and it felt so right
She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He left her lonely and the pickings were right
She was the steal of the night
We danced every slow one the band could play
Was it ever this easy for ole jesse james
Had the gold in my hands and the banker was blind
Just inches away from the steal of the night
When the band stopped playing we walked to the car
As I closed the door he ran out of the bar
Saw him shaking his fist under the parking lot light
As I strolled away with the steal of the night
(repeat chorus)
(repeat chorus and fade out)

song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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