The White Dove and The River Of Life
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The White Dove and The River Of Life
Comes a white doe, quaint sight, a wandering,
Murmurs, her head swerves about, hesitates,
A snow owl offering sky, pondering,
Nimbles green herbs with care, then elevates,
Hooves paves a path, my blue being surges clear,
Alert nose take air, head bent back, above,
Unaware, her head drops, tickles my sphere,
Cast her spot of me, blanched soul feel her shove,
Tempt, I tide my being, yet pursuit was keen,
The full breadth of her, trots to my chilled beat,
She alights her weight to level her being,
Trots to shore, genteel flow, dares to repeat,
Perchance another day of challenging,
Comes a white doe, quaint sight, a wandering.
2019 May 12
Copyright © William Kekaula | Year Posted 2019
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