The Lost White Pigeon

And thee damsel,aware?What I like about thee?
Not those common Petrarch words,nor for Spencer what's beauty's glee!

In thee I see some magic,get that straight,thee not an angel,a fairy,
also thee not Keat's dame,
But for thee invoke my soul,and make it merry!

What magic then?

A Peacock's feather,the beautiful deep blue,Out of my heart floates free
And on eager to make love papyrus leaves,forms those mesmerizing words of poetry!

The papyrus then I rolled,with a ribbon of so shiny silk,
A fragrant petal in it,for no more,could lift my white winged ilk!

Yes I watched it fly with dreamy eyes,but centuries now since it occured,
Yet no sonner than yesterday,complains about thee I still murmured!

Not for my heart still aches a bit,
Not for my soul still cries the odd tear,
Its for the white winged who took flight,
Soon,suddenly was surrounded by fear!

Navigated it,on lines connecting our hearts,Thee broke,then vanished,to be seen nowhere,And my dear that poor little soul,
Finding thee,was lost all alone somewhere!

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