The Mourning Doves

In my maple, the gentle mourning doves nest The handsome gray male coos outside the window His feathery nature sounds welcome me to each day Their nest hides among the leaves, and I survey it Morning tea time belongs to these pleasant fowl Silly me, I call them Lucy and Ricky softly Distinctly, tasks for them simply done... He, the nest and food---she seclusively sits waiting Surprisingly, I fancy them, long to touch them These graceful birds engage, thus my laughter comes naturally Female nuzzling grabs the male's attention...he responds Jumping in a ritualistic dance, they coo together My male dove thinks a cat’s too close and Draws the feline away by feigning broken wing… Just as the cat pounces, he swoops up Too close to death, but no one asks me Musing about my forever mated, beautiful birds Sharing this nature experience...and their devotion From now till always, I will embrace the day Joyfully filled with hope for the time to come