Friday, April 11

Mourning Dove

I saw a mourning dove all by himself on a telephone wire over spring break and I thought this poem. It's simple and silly. But I like it.









Mourning Dove


Poor little mourning dove all alone,
No one is near him to hear his song.

He sits perched on high,
Sings his lullaby,
While down below, the people pass by.

3 comments:

Christy Joy said...

i always thought it was Morning dove. Mourning dove definitely gives a new connotation.

Edward said...

I also appreciate the play on words here. But he wasn't alone-you were there writing a poem about him. That's an honor I imagine most other birds don't get to share. :P

Kristin said...

It was quite an unintentional play on words; I never thought of it being morning dove, but what do I know? Funny thing perception is...

Unfortunately, this is another of my poems that my teacher does not particularly care for. But again, I like it :)

Meanwhile, I hadn't quite thought of the honor in being the subject of a poem :) Perhaps life's not so melancholy for the mourning dove after all ;) Although, melancholy is not always bad.