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The Day Is A Mourning Dove

Updated on October 11, 2016
herownwings profile image

Although it is difficult to dub myself "poet," I only know that I love to create poetry.

Rising and setting upon grey wings

the day is a mourning dove.

With pale breast she softly coos

o’er her children with purest love.

Yet no sorrow is in her eye,

unalloyed is the light

by which we lift and place each step

‘til we usher in the night.

We greet the evening like a friend

as we settle near the hearth,

opening to the page last bent

we forget the toils of earth.

Between the realms of book and dream

my eyelids flutter closed.

A fledgling to the nest returned

curled up like a budding rose.

© 2016 Emily


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    • herownwings profile image

      Emily 12 months ago from Oregon

      I'm glad you enjoyed this piece and I'm grateful for your positive comments threekeys. :)

    • herownwings profile image

      Emily 12 months ago from Oregon

      Thank you whonu, I truly appreciate your feedback and time in commenting. :)

    • threekeys profile image

      Threekeys 12 months ago from Australia

      So soft and delicate...

    • whonunuwho profile image

      whonunuwho 12 months ago from United States

      This is quite beautiful my friend. Well done. whonu