Death Of A Dove
'Twas Shane who gave the spotted dove to me
That he'd found by the Pittosporum tree
From upper branch she'd fallen to the ground
Though predator he had not seen around.
She seemed so frail I held her in my hand
She did not struggle could not even stand
I searched her over for an injury
Though only one small blemish I could see.
And that was the tiniest hole in her head
Though very very little she had bled
And that the only injury she had
'Methought' what ails her she doesn't look too bad? .
I wrapped her in jumper to keep her warm
And put her in basket in place safe from harm
On the verandah to recuperate
Though I felt fairly dubious of her fate.
I gave her honey mixed in water for to drink
And she shook her head and she began to blink
And quite suddenly she seemed to come alive
And she looked then like she might well survive.
And for her life she seemed prepared to fight
And she perched on basket verge to spend the night
But when I went to see her in the morning light
She did not look a very healthy sight.
She lay there dying on the verandah floor
And for her I knew I could do no more
Dark rain clouds gathered in the morning sky
And on verandah floor the dove did die.
At least of her suffering the bird was free
And I buried her by the pittosporum tree
A yellow robin carolled in the rain
And when the shower had passed the sun shone out again.