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Poetry / The Dove
The Dove..
Once I walked a path of solitude, in search of, a flight feathered muse,
The stories sullen and deep, yet its crescendo grew through tales,
As I trotted, with my gait, ideas of this muse as a mate,
A mate with a similar fate, a fate of loving destiny.
Then a white feather, “I saw, “as it slowly danced its fall,
Down to my forest floor.
Oh’ now I remember it mimicked the leaves of August to December,
The way nude branches posed and sprinkled its colorful foliage upon the floor.
Curiously but not as in haste;- in my palm I sought to place,
Led from the stories of sorrows- sorrows from the lost dove of Lilian-
A demoiselle scarce and beamy whom the heavens named Lilian-
The golden white feathered chameleon.
And the feathery silk invoked senses on my fingers tip,
Weakened me- and ached my body with emotions lost re-kindled
To aid me now, and still the thud beating of my heart, I spoke aloud,
“Golden white feathered, where art thou now”-
You shed your feather on my forest floor and now”-
Must I stand here and wonder if… it were you forever more?
Unknowingly my urge grew stronger; Waiting awhile no longer,
I jumped my feet off the forest floor, climbed a tree to explore,
Upset my trot to gait had stopped, cause your white feather had dropped,
Dropped to my forest floor, tapping at my chambers door,
Knowing this could not be a dream, in my palm a feather gleamed;-
In the tree top I had explored, a dream and nothing more?
In that tree top clinging, my warm hands clung, now stinging,
Wanting, the dove no peasant ever dared to speak of before;
Then I saw another white feather drift to the floor,
And the wind uttered something I never heard before, “Lilian!”
This I muttered in a whisper, and the wind muttered back, “Lilian!”-
The golden white feathered chameleon.
Then suddenly I slipped with turning, all my heart now yearning,
I fell down to the forest floor- faster than the trot and gait I had before,
Now lying on my back, a shower of white golden feathers attacked,
I rubbed my eye’s to diffuse this dream, excited by what was seen;
Let my heart be still right now! and understand what is seen;
There were so many feathers falling….
No longer a dream within a dream!
So to my feet I stood, going back and forth was of no good,
Then I heard a chirping…. beautifully singing a song,
Perched on a branch was that dove…. The flight feathered muse,
Perched royally and stately. With the grace of a lady –
And a curiosity of love.
Then this white dove changed my grimace into smile,
And morphed it’s shape into a woman thus while,
I marveled at the beauty presented before me now,
And we sat and chat, for miles and miles or
Years to this day, for I had black hair
And now tis were grey!
Captured by the silent, quietness around us now,
The demoiselle reach out and took my hand in band,
Still all I fancied set before me now-
I fancied to fancy, the peasants mortal dream,
And take flight forever more with my dove of Yore.
And my Dove, never frowning, now wings sprouting, now sprouting,
Still sitting on the forest floor, unlocked my chambers door,
And my eyes have now seen the angel, never seen before,
While now the starry skies lye, the shadow of my dove by my side,
Winged and lifted away – forevermore.
Written by DamondQuinn
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Elven_Vampiress reviewed Version 1 -
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This is beautiful ballad. The story of a love spanning time, space, and social status as accepted by petty humans. Thank you for sharing!
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HeavyMetalMouth reviewed Version 1 -
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Fantastic. I’m in awe. Thank you very much ~
Paul
EvnSuicideAgrees reviewed Version 1 -
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Really great stuff I really have no critiques except, on e line that didn’t make much sense to me--“The demoiselle reach out and took my hand in band,”--I think you should rethink this line—It makes no sense to me and I believe demoiselle is spelled wrong.
obelletto reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a pretty good imitation of The Raven. I applaud your efforts; it’s always a good idea to learn from the masters.
It seems to be missing the tension and the suspense of the original. That’s probably not as much your fault as it is simply that we’re familiar enough with The Raven that we know what’s coming. Plus, the inverted syntax and archaic words move us very far away from any sense of urgency.
We accept old speech from the original, because we know when it was written. Readers are much less forgiving of non-modern speech in something that was written recently.
blakdove reviewed Version 1 -
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This is an inspired poem. You use the dove to move the poem along, the transition is good. The only thing is the rhyme scheme is a little distracting, there needs to be a little more rhythm to it
Taoistpunk reviewed Version 1 -
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While I’m not the biggest fan of poetry in general, this piece had nice rhythm and an even cadence that made the reading lyrical and easy. I enjoyed the poe-etic ending as well…and all the references throughout to Poe
mequinl reviewed Version 1 -
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I absolutely loved it.The flow of thi poem kept me dancing.Your imagination kept me intrigued.I like the flirtation between you and the dove.It also has an enchanted type story line that, i think you should stay with in your poetry.
revanwithin reviewed Version 1 -
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I think it’s very interesting how you modeled this piece after Poe’s “the Raven”. If you weren’t doing this purposely it would really surprise me, because the poem is very similar but completely opposite. The raven is a dark symbol, while the dove speaks of love and peace. Then there’s the lost love in Poe’s work (Lenore) and your found love (Lilian) here. Like I need to say all this since you probably knew what you were doing! But great job. Inspiring! I enjoyed the whole thing.
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