Stolen

They were taken:
stolen away like a thief in the night,
who crept along in the fading light
and tip-toed up to where they lay
before the start of a shining day.
They left the beds they slept upon
and no-one knew where they had gone.
Their robes still hang in the closet - there
and the brushes, which untangled their hair
still lay on the dresser, unused, forlorn,
as the silvery sky welcomes the dawn.
We searched the garden, we called their names,
we peered all day through the window panes.
Oh, how we longed to see the trace
of a smile upon a much loved face.
But never a sight and never a sound,
as though they'd vanished into the ground.
Each day the sun sends out his rays
to warm our empty, lonely days
and the feathery moon travels across
the tilted sky in search of the lost.