The bird on the windowsill

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The evening was cool and tranquil
The wish to augur well abound
The cigar on my lips nearing its peril
Thus holding it with my finger tips hard
Gazing through the window fastened
Gauging my life as a widower
‘Golly!’ what has caused the noise rend
Gaping in astonishment my mouth rounder
Perching on the window calmly
Pinky dove landed perfectly
Producing a muffled scuffle lovelily
Peering through the pane suspiciously
Constant peck of minute dust
Caressing the beak on pane last
Careful preening of feathers on crest
Clipping and arranging them best
Silently peering through the pane
Solutions form to quell my pain
Should I continue to lament days gone?
Sit in the agony of my love’s illusion?
Thanks to the lesson given in mute
Thoughts brought up to unite
The aching soul of mine, blest
The bird on the windowsill sit