The Last Dove

When you leave, who is left behind?

The clouds which paint the winter sky

Fill your wings, and take you high

Far away, away you fly

You whisper soft, Goodbye

Take my spirit, keep it near

Don't forget, I'm always here

In the fields of silent fear

Remember me, my dear

Now that I lay down to sleep

In the dark and icy deep

All these mem'ries, that I keep

They give me cause to weep

In my dreams, I look above

To the heaven's cloudy glove

Fleeting hope, remembrance of

The wish of the last dove

My last glimpse of your love.

Author's Note

This is my first public poem.