Thinking of Prey

Vaksinius · Thinking of Prey (*)

Once in a lifetime, I say to my love,
one will be thinking of hawk and of dove.
Why, she asks proudly, admitting her neck.
Why not the hand given of cards the deck?

Ace, I say, would then be what dove is not.
Splendid, she says, birdie now you have got.
Smiling, I say, Holy Spirit is what?
Dove, she says, – surely. The white means a lot.

Bird of prey, (namely, of prey, so to say,)
bird of prey (being like to night the day,)
bird of prey (which is not quite like the dove.)
will take to wings after makings of love.

Dove is now nodding, she quietly says.
Doves are like nodding, in so many ways,
I say, and really to ponder upon
is what the mercy of dove is then won.

Pride! she says, straightening her pretty neck.
Pride, I say, signifies cards in the deck.
Ace can be one, she says, smiling a lot.
Hawk can be helpful, I say, that is got.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.