The Cooing
It comes upon a moment
that drifts so to the soul
haunting this abode of being
this twilight realm of place
The cooing enters the spirit
Drives upon the intensity of the heart
And wear our dreams.

That Dove that so surrounds
draws me upon its flutters
Those wings that have tormented my soul
to the most profound beauty of depth
and kissed my heart,
Do I know Love?
In truth not till now
has the fire filled my glands
drenched deep these pools of my eyes
to drift upon her countenance
To lay within her warmth.

Her song
fills the distant hills of home
draws back upon her
teases my body upon her mystery
and fills the long search
That all that is of me, speaks of her
Holds her more dearly, more precious than life
This woman, That I shall call my being
My heart, my home.


Alisdaire O'Caoimph