My Precious Nest Eggs.

A lovely Mourning dove’s discovered
The warmth of motherhood uncovered
Setting her nest in my porch lamp
Under the eaves where it’s less damp…..

Where she’s sitting peacefully
Always gazing down at me…
Each time I’m use my front door,
Saying little birdie prayers
That I’ll respect her roosting there
And that I’m not a dove hunter……

But each time I turn my porch light on
it helps to incubate her eggs,
the spot she chose was so convenient
making her waiting time more lenient,
till her babies come to play.
was she smart enough to realize
her nest was quite a clever enterprise…
I tried to ask her but she wouldn’t say

So all night long when my porch light is lit
She and her babies feel the heat of it
And her cold spring nights are warmed a bit
Much more then some lonely, windy tree…..
Where the rains would pound relentlessly
40 watts feels heavenly……

Much like my home built as a shelter
From the endless helter-skelter
Of a world that can bring fear
Providing for my family
Where they can enjoy eagerly
Safety and warmth over the years.

So now we’ll all be using side doors,
Till those eggs that Dove adores
All crack as fuzzy heads,
Peek from their protective shells,
Above a light that kept them well
And they fly away some day
From their most cozy bed.
Till they fly away
from their cozy beds
from their cozy beds…..

Art~Whimsically Yours Studio
Matthew F. Blowers III-©-2016
*Photo by me on my porch