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FishStacks
Kord
BigJ
My name is not Dave
This poem makes no sense
Microwave
Poem by: Rafael. K. Guzmán
The bird flies stoically through the rain,
Never leaving his home domain.
Adventure strikes his core and heart,
And destiny helps him to depart.
Nothing wavers this radiant dove,
Except something, something, that feels like love.
He dives off to seek the darling finch,
With the determination and strength of an iron winch.
At first sight the finch steals his lust,
A haul of affection to stir the dust,
Which lies around his loving heart,
Deeply urging him to depart.
At last he leaves the striking bird,
Only to discover a voice unheard.
That tells him to flee and run away,
To follow his head another day.
The bird was a dove doused in love,
Coming from the heavens way above.
To mate and never think ‘depart’,
A wedding worthy of platinum art.