a/n: This relates to an early scene in "Art for Hogan's Sake". LeBeau encounters a painting.
Theft
His cloth on an ice-crusted window is circling;
A central patch clears; he stares through, sees a crate,
And a painting, revealed, as the frame is raised slowly;
A jolt;
Recognition;
Then deep, burning hate.
~0~
It takes all he has to refrain from reacting,
By storming the office; denouncing the theft.
He pictures his Paris, her art and her beauty;
Picked over by vultures, till nothing is left.
~0~
He waits, while his cloth on the window keeps circling;
He can't look away from the painting; unseen,
As the General is boasting of priceless art thievery;
Contempt for French culture; uncouth and obscene.
~0~
The room is now empty; he enters it swiftly;
His throat is constricted; his eyes are too bright.
This painting should grace a Parisian gallery.
A disgrace, a dishonour; which must be put right.
~0~
No thought for immediate backlash or consequence;
The frame rips apart with one sweep of his knife.
His Paris has fallen to evil barbarians;
Preserving her treasure's worth more than his life.
~0~