My love is for the snow-white dove, singing for my springtime
She serenades Serendipity with seductive, soulful chirps
My heart plucks it's strings to accompany such a sonnet as hers;
She stands humbly on my rosey scented hand.

I turn my head to know her sweet gaze again
What a sight for sore and wide eyes alike,

She promises me life in abundance
With no reprimands or expectations as long as
Color still bursts from the newborn blue above me,
The land of my belongings will remain lush and fruitful for as long as
Eternity floods each passing moment with light

There is shade underneath the tree where she sleeps,
So I will sit, hugging all the comfort from these limbs until
Time brews a storm to shift me from my seat

Oh, my love is for the keeper of my peace.