MNIKOS' DOVE POETRY AND MAGAZINE. JULY 2016 | Page 4

Second Poem: DOVE( it has got a honorary mention)
The doves in the following picture look like married doves, oooh! I am not sure
but it might be so, they look humble, peace and so much mean to each other.
What are they? Just read the poem and enjoy.

By Emmanuel ThePoet.
My dawn chorus was ever an air's thing;
A chariot's wing doting an emigrant sweet
The other lineally composing a likeness by ring;
A marriage composed to and fro with my heaving's sweep
Heavenly bodies doth dwell hither, thither now:
Sun, moon, stars and life that maketh thee.
Where nature grew eternity copious with thy kind;
A golden tune, cool collected breeze and shiny feathers
Whereon a hearth my dove springs as seasons;
Her beauty's roastings is nothing but an attracted eye,
And all human tire ill- a rare affection.
When feet become treads a history doth draw
Blank in verse by black toward gentle torture;
Her drums beat young a chorus, any feather as act.