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 |.

My Mother

My mother told me to always be creating.
With her, my mother, I never was debating.
I thought of it, at my mother’s expenditure,
And, God, I loved her, and worked on my signature.

There is so much to possess and to satisfy,
Thinking to be good the common will gratify.
My mother told me, yourself create anything.
That was the greatest of all she was bequeathing.

I wish my mother was still here, though moreover,
That she joined happily heaven by passover.
Gift she was giving, she did me characterize.
By what she said, she her offspring did authorize.

NOTE :

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