Fair, pure, timorous Dove

A sonnet on a beautiful creature who is physically unattainable

I hunt my prey: fair, pure, timorous Dove
Why doth thou fly while I bare wild oats
I saw you ascend like angel above
Thou art allusive, yet thou eye denotes:
High in the sky, she still captures my gaze,
Grace of an eagle, yet trapped in her cell
She fights the sky, set’s the blue air ablaze
Little turtle dove, still hides in her shell.

She swoops then swoons as the heavens fall,
She plummets, and darts, feathers stripped withal,
Her speedy haste lifts as her white quilts sprawl,
Shoots at my arms as a missile lethal.
I nurse her to health, my fallen God’s angel
Let you fly free, as I know you’re faithful.

Author's Note

Please rate and review :)

Reviews

[Terry O'Leary]

Very nice, especially the imagery...

I'm not sure why you switched from 'thou' to 'you' in the 2nd stanza...
Also, I think 'thine eye denotes' is more correct in the 4th line...

Nevertheless, very good!

[Poet-bellied pig]

Great poem, wonderful conceit and beautiful language all packed in a consistent accurate Petrachan Sonnet form