The Protection Of Peace
On hard, concrete, grey, lifeless, stone,
Gently and delicately,
Created, a dove alone
A messenger of love and peace,
A padded jacket protecting her feathery fleece.
People walking on hard macadam,
wonder why ?
Peace is no longer our Madame ?
A gentle woman that'd caress
Nurse humanity, through its stresses,
Who would no longer have to be swathed
In a jacket for protection
For humanity she would bathe,
Lovingly, with care
She'd teach us not to fight and stare,
She'd sponge our souls in peace
So wars, prejudice and hate
Submitted to dVerse poetics On the theme of texture