"Quickly! Quickly! Little ones!"
Called the Mama dove,
"A storm is brewing, children!
See the dark skies up
From her nest high in the tree,
She saw her babies circling
Gaily sailing with the currents,
Smartly gliding to and
How beautiful her children,
And how proud the Mama
Her gentle heart beat rapidly,
So filled with mother love.
Again she called her darlings,
The storm clouds moving
A cold wind was rising, too,
And blew in icy blasts.
The baby doves flew up at once,
To the nest, secure and
And snuggled 'neath the mother's wings,
Well protected from the
It was the most horrific tempest
To ever strike the
Its fury lashed out everywhere,
No space at all was safe.
It ripped the nest beneath the doves,
And they were thrown
They tried to fly in the wild sky,
But how pathetically they
It seemed the storm raged on forever,
The doves afraid and
But then at last the tempest passed,
And the sky grew clear
The nest had vanished - gone from sight,
The baby doves
flew round and round,
They searched in vain for their cozy home,
in fragments on the ground.
The Mother dove did not return,
How hard her babies
But she had taught them very well,
And they managed to
Though it was hard, they struggled on,
And soon rebuilt
For them, then came a growing time,
When the young
doves did their best.
Safe and secure, they had become,
And were happy once
And while they longed for their mother's love,
remained with them.
Of course, she missed them dreadfully
As any mother
So God, in all His wisdom,
Did what He thought was good.
He sent another storm to earth,
Fiercer than the one
And the little doves, though grown now,
Were forced to fight once
A valiant battle then took place,
As the tiny birds were
blown and tossed,
And when the awful storm was done,
One little dove was
Angel doves flew down with comfort,
They brought tender
love and smiles,
And amongst them was the mother,
Who had come to find her
When she found her precious baby,
She wrapped her up in
Then flew with her to heaven,
To bring her to the
True, her family down on earth
Would miss her without
But think about the mother's joy
To be with her child again.
And think, too, of the tiny dove
Who'd have no more awful
storms to face,
No more hurting - no more pain,
Just peace and love in a
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Fly sweetly, little dove!
For Francine's Lorraine and Maddie
Please read the beautiful poems, written for
Maddie and her mother, Lorraine, by