A turtle dove sits

on the chimney,

the gentle sound

of its love song,

like wind in the trees,

a mother’s murmuring

over a sleeping child,

settles on the house,

in a wave of peace,

and I almost forget,

the insane discords

from the nightclub

where revellers linger,

refusing to see

the pure light in the sky

or hear

the gentle remonstrations

of the turtle dove.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

6 thoughts on “Dove”

  1. Great poetic thought. You’re right. People can miss so much. I am sitting on my balcony watching birds sitting on the phone wires.
    All the best. Kris.

    1. Thanks Kris. It’s a pathetic noise really. I imagine the idea of ‘afters’ exists everywhere, the nightcubs that reopen at six in the morning since the law obliges them to close at four. For two hours their customers wander the streets like drunken lost souls, then pour back inside for a refill.

    1. Thank you—that’s a good idea 🙂 The poem just came out in a stream. I’ll have another look at it and see if I can it from a ‘stream’ to a proper poem.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s