DOVE

The dove, sings songs of love
He puffs his chest, his beak points to the moon
He serenades, in hopes to swoon
When sunlit days appear, more and more
The smell of spring, hard to ignore
Desire doesn’t play fair
When desire fills the air
He’s out to snatch, he’s out to lureig
His plume perfumed with allure
He breathes a tune, repeating it twice
Then listens without a reply, frozen like ice
The cold of silence, breaking his heart
He tries again then sets to part
To search for springs love
The object of his desire, another lonesome dove
(Antony)

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Subject	2.5 × 2.3 cm, Aquarell
Paper	300g Water Color Paper
Dimensions	20 × 20 cm

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