Conversations
Conversing doves, cooing high above;
in mornings, opening eyes;
ordering their fledglings breakfast.
Doves have no talent for building but,
they’re better parents than most humans.
Vigilant loving care is the art of the dove.
Their eggs will hatch and wings will fly;
do or die nothing will divert a parental dove’s eye;
it stays on solid course.
Doves stay near, enough to hear and see
and three hundred sixty degree views will,
catch a deadly predator’s eye; little doves will survive.
With no corruption, in their realm, t
though weary doves are at the helm;
off young ones will fly.
They mate for life; endure great strife;
for years they will survive.
Playing dumb, is loads of fun, but doves are very wise;
observation tells the tale;
to learn from them, is very nice;
watch close and you will be surprised on
a huge scale.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
