By JH Sayyar
When doves in light murmur soft and low,
Their gentle coos like whispers in the air,
So lovers meet where tender passions grow,
And share secrets none but hearts can bear.
Eyes that speak in glances more than words,
And fingers brushing soft as drifting snow,
Their sighs, like songs of eve-throated birds,
Unveil a world where only they may go.
The bill of love—a kiss both coy and deep,
The coo—a vow that silence dares not break;
In these soft rites, the soul begins to leap,
And do awake for dealing’s sacred sake.
O let them bill and coo till stars are dim—
For love, like song, begins, ends in hymn.
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