A Pale Dove

 

Day’s rise above St-John

A pale dove in the air

Sooths my soul with her song

Calling whom may care

 

To leave a small crumble

For her, a real delight

Her hope is so humble

That it is now my plight

 

To spare a bit or two

From what us nature gave

To satisfy her too

With remnants of our crave

 

​

Let’s always keep in mind

As we take the big share

These creatures dear and kind

Hoping to get some care

 

Let us hear the poor’s cry

And through open windows

A crumble small and dry

Cast into the meadows

 

For You had me awake

At this hour so early

To hear the call and ache

Of whom You love dearly

​

Dimitri Arnauts

St-Stephen's House, Oxford

8 July 2019