(The collared dove, Streptopelia decaocto, has
colonised the UK in the past half century.)
Strange how, years past, no dove could keep
The writer of these lines from sleep.
Ring doves, the wood’s five-note Columba,
Euphonic, soothing, helped woo slumber;
Peaceful, and distant, double-cooed,
The stock dove too did not intrude,
Or turtle doves’ now rare June purring
Much trouble holiday late stirring.
All change! That collared curse is here,
Non-stop and close and loud and clear!
Its call’s relentless, tedious, triple,
And drives me straight to pills or tipple!
If you have any comments on this poem, Jerome Betts would be
pleased to hear from you.