Nameless Dove

Streets lifted from the pages of ancient legend
lost to wingless doves, aimlessly walking beyond
the fabric of my mind's tapestry, still growing.

Hanging signs rock snow upon their heads
forcing the shake that adds paint to stone's canvas
brushed by the feet that magnetise my eyes
sprouting wings to fly from their home, in search
of the dove whose heart is worn in front, for me.

This nameless dove was once an angel, fallen
born from fire and melody in a deity's soul
to this day her head is destined for my shoulder
with tears to be removed by my intrepid fingers.

All lost, for she has left these streets
to rejoin the family more deserving of such
beauty, beauty that laughs at lyrical effort
all I have for now, so I shall wait for her.

Reviews

[Tommy]

Great write! I love the imagery and the verbiage used to portray this piece of undying love. Wow, keep up the good work!
RLG,
Tommy

[Alicante lullaby]

you know Gary,,,some how the scenes you paint ,remind me of''The nightingale'',,,the one by Oscar wilde,,,the one who bleed to produce 'red rose'for lovers,,,sad ending,,,you are waiting for her to look back,,,a taste of yours,,,,

[cest la vie]

What a beautiful hopeful poem. The "fallen angel"..Yet, you are down on earth with arms and hands patiently waiting.. Very nice, Gary:-)