Driven Dome Of A Dove Poem by John Sensele

For the umpteenth time, a thought
Crossed the floss and toss of my blind kind
Of mind to muffle and ruffle shuttles that brought
Doubt, pout and gout for which I couldn't find

A reason in the prison
In which my mind chose for an overdose
To lock the cock of the season
My youth and its mouth sailing South froze

As my mind and its kind rind
Reconsidered the proposition that cider
Taken in moderation could bind
Troubles and their arable doubles to a reliable rider

Who cycles on borrowed bicycles
To sow love, tow love and grow love
In hearts of men, women and brethren in cycles
That move love, groove love and prove love on the driven dome of a dove.