The Sweet Dove.


A Dove inside a snowy veil,
Eyes reflecting heart’s ardor.
Efface my contemptible kvetching,
Beauteous cheeks adorned with smiles.

Rigid shackles fetter my hands,
Allow not the veil’s ascent.
For reminiscence stirs a broken past,
Craving to linger in an infinite bliss.

Mournings imbibe the forlorn soul,
Ecstasy hides welcoming pains obscure.
Knows she not the muddled mind,
Muffled thoughts in a gloomy cavern.

Chortles the Dove, totter my limbs,
Beams of glee electrify the arteries.
And the spread wings’ flutter,
Conducts a shattering symphony.

Flies she away with a last bye,
Leaving woe in days and nights.
Yet she resides in fragments,
Of memories sweet and anodyne.

A chimerical cry I doubt I hear,
Summoning austerely the lost intimacy.
Pinch me, surreal be squelched,
For she’s gone back to her dearies.

image resource: