Upon a spear of love
Impaled lay a lovely dove.
Crimson stained her feather coat
And she cries a lonely song:
“Love is a traitor,
Its kiss a ploy.
Coiling like serpent
Around its prey;
It withers flowers
And nibs at hearts,
With a poison sting
It leaves its mark.”
I pity thee, gentle dove,
And thy heart so frail
That on ground doth lay,
Bleeding love,
As thy life flies away...
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Author:
Joakim Bergen (
Offline) - Published: November 26th, 2022 08:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Eugene S.
Offline)
Comments1
Love the imagery and the allusion. The sprinkling of Olde English makes it so much more endearing.
Thank you very much for your kind words!
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