When I was a boy I shot a bird with a bow and arrow my grandfather had made. The bird was a turtle dove. I remember with sadness that bird. I am indepted to Silene for her kind suggestions for modification of stanza format which I have adopted.


The Turtle Dove by M.A.Meddings

I found a turtle dove one day
Quite dead as if it was made of clay
And as I stooped in sorrow care
I found a trail of blood was there

The bird had died without intent
A random shot
its death not meant

The arrow shaft so fast and start
Had pieced the bird into the heart
It died at last some furlongs on
Dripping blood from an open wound

No more to Sylvan depths I go
Nor wander free in driven snow

For fear of finding the emblem love
Quite dead as clay The Turtle Dove




























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Poetry by lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 555 times
Written on 2006-10-03 at 12:28

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A turtle dove - symbol of love...
A bow and arrow - Cupid's weapon...
Sad and so true!
2006-10-03


Kathy Lockhart
Oh how sad for you. You learned a lesson you will never forget, I am sure. This has a beautiful flowing quality about it as well. : ) kathy
2006-10-03


Silene
Hello my friend!

This is a memory of guilt.
I can identify - because i almost have the same experience. Just that it was a swallow hit by a car. Almost dead. I shot it and buried it under a tree. Must have been 10 or something...

You know i love to breath....and because of that, may i suggest this, please?


I found a turtle dove one day
Quite dead as if it was made of clay
And as I stooped in sorrow care
I found a trail of blood was there

The bird had died without intent
A random shot
its death not meant

The arrow shaft so fast and start
Had pieced the bird into the heart
It died at last some two furlongs on
Dripping blood from an open wound

No more to Sylvan depths I go
Nor wander free in driven snow

For fear of finding the emblem love
Quite dead as clay The Turtle Dove
2006-10-03