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Dawn shyly appears above the sea's horizon.
She's wearing several subtle shades of pink.
Much softer hues than that of rainbow red,
a bold color that inspires poets to spill ink.
A pair of white doves fly across the sky.
Upon a journey together they embark.
Pinion feathers of purest white take flight,
trilling a morning song, in tune with a lark.

Sunrise wipes his sleepy eyes then he sees
skies blended with the color of a ripe peach,
like the second band in a rainbow ~ orange.
Third arc of yellow, as golden sand on a beach.
The doves stay clear of seagulls diving for fish,
for those are not tasty things that doves prefer.
Two busy aviators, shadows cast on the sun,
focused on their mission, wings in a whirr.

In a verdant meadow are the trees they seek
in the rainbow's color of green, they rest.
Huddled together, they decide it's the place,
so, in branches of an oak, they build a nest.
A task they hurry in doing while skies are blue.
The fifth rainbow color without clouds nearby.
Twigs and leaves entwined with feathered down.
With the sun half risen, two white doves unify.

Eggs laid; she shrouds them as dark clouds swirl. 
Heavy with rain, they're a deep shade of indigo.
Sixth in a rainbow's arc, between blue and violet,
Mother dove guards her embryos as winds blow.
Morning sun has disappeared for a little while.
Soon the storm will fade and move on its way.
Then a rainbow's arc will stretch across the sky,
and two doves will coo, white feathers in array.

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