dovecotes
by valentine bonnaire c. April 2013 valentine@valentinebonnaire.com
that between us was the sun of love
I expected the holy dove
& you in the long running sun
it was protection that I wanted
*
you that were the father’s holy ghost
not just the seeds ascended, most
I who flew until the fire
of our love had ended, only host
what cooed upon my breast of peace?
in my mother’s sackcloth of doom, the lease
where my father made a baby breech
when did love become a tomb?
*
Twenty years after this day, and two years later gone astray
No love from men came for our tribe
No builders dared the dovecotes, cried
instead just tears at what was love
what was a father from above
had turned to ash upon our lips
my mother in her scarf of cold
had warned us off of men, she’d told
us of their lies and grief
my generation without relief
without the sun
or merry shine
without the child, should have been mine
without a flag
without a home
nor any garden’s quiet loam
how many of our hearts did bleed
how love was lost
a sorry screed
how much I would have loved your sun
and in the sun had borne a son
if not at war
we would be blessed
and dovecotes built inside our chests
and love would be a tender hour
what we’d have grown
a simple flower
~
VALENTINE BONNAIRE - WRITER 