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Family Bird Poems | Bird Poems About Family

These Family Bird poems are examples of Bird poems about Family. These are the best examples of Family Bird poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Sestina |

The Maid, the Magpie and the Mirror

Gazing, at its own reflection is the Magpie.
A magic bird, a mystical creature, with a soul
and the power to see things, the power of scrying.
It sees a tomb in ancient Egypt. It sees death.
A soul locked within a glorious bronze mirror,
Cleopatra and her Maid in a bond unbroken.

Time passes in silence as deep as the unbroken
promise of endless wisdom, gifted by the Magpie.
whose caws the Maid hears, within the depths of the mirror,
calls to the Queen, her Cleopatra, to her soul.
Magpie speaks to She on the Eastern Barge in the afterlife of death,
and to her Maid entombed. The sacred bird so near scrys.

The Magpie sits within oasis staring into the pool. It scrys
for all this time, its vigil, its protection, never broken.
Even when the sarcophagus is carried to the necropolis of the dead,
without, unknown, the bird speaks wisely through reflection, her Magpie.
Entombed, his Queen and her Maid, their bodies but not their souls,
Queen, Maid and Magpie, each cast a last gaze, alive within the mirror.

The Vows of Innocence, the Maid bespeaks the mirror.
Pleas to the Swallower of Shades, both Queen and Maid have scried
to The Burning One, and claim no lie, upon their soul.
As the light dims within the Maids eyes, in tomb unbroken,
she sees the life of her Queen and their Magpie
pass fast upon the brass, last breath of life and dying.

Oh, too soon the end, moans the Maid, I am dying.
Her life's reflection moves bronzed upon the mirror.
She screams, "My Queen," but hears only the caw of Magpie.
All around her other servants succumb and cry, whilst she sits scrying,
and the Magpie flies above in life entombed, eternity, unbroken.
As she beseeches all the Gods to save her soul.

The Magpie's spirit self moves within the mirror's soul.
He swoops gathering Cleopatra's essence, past the dying,
and brings her to the Maids side unbroken.
In afterlife upon the Eastern Barge they join the mirrored
whole, for he, the bird of magic, Magpie, has called and scried
it so. Part light of life, part dark of death, the Magpie.

The essence of each entwine united within this eternal mirror
for the Magpie cannot bear their deaths. He will protect and forever scry
in life the mirror sits unbroken a stolen bauble, and in it they dwell with the Magpie.





Details | Lyric |

Cindy Had A Little Bird

Cindy had a little Bird, 
Little Bird, little Bird, 
Cindy had a little Bird, 
Its feathers were yellow as the sun

And everywhere that Cindy went, 
Cindy went, Cindy went, 
Everywhere that Cindy went
The Bird was sure to go

It followed her to school one day
School one day, school one day
It followed her to school one day
Which was against the rules.

It made the children laugh and play,
Laugh and play, laugh and play,
It made the children laugh and play
To see a Bird at school

And so the teacher turned it out,
Turned it out, turned it out,
And so the teacher turned it out,
But still it lingered near

And waited patiently about,
Patiently about, patiently about,
And waited patiently about
Till Cindy did appear

"Why does the Bird love Cindy so?"
Love Cindy so? Love Cindy so?
"Why does the Bird love Cindy so?"
The eager children cried

"Why, Cindy loves the Bird, you know."
Loves the Bird, you know, loves the Bird, you know
"Why, Cindy loves the Bird, you know."
The teacher did reply


Details | Quatrain |

Nature's Lesson For Parents

I watched a hatching baby chick
struggling to break free from its shell
that was its home for many days
but now was time to say farewell

Mom had pecked into the shell
a tiny hole to start the process
She did her part dutifully
Now the chick must do the rest

I felt sorry for the struggling chick
and could almost feel the pain
I wanted to break off the shell
thinking it would ease the strain

Then I remembered someone said
The chick must struggle on its own 
to start its heart and lungs working
for it to become fully grown

I stood and watched as a miracle
unfolded right in front of me
All by itself the chick broke out
and stood there so cute and furry

There is a lesson here for parents
who are raising a family
Be protective of your children
but do not do it overly




*I actually witnessed this event.
I wrote this after reading Evrod Samuel's
TOO MUCH LOVE CAN KILL


john beharry, Any poem/Any form - for new poets of soup, 12/1/2013


Details | Couplet |

Mr Inquisitive

Could a scythe cut a slice
from a sycamore tree?
If a bird had no feathers
what bird would it be?
If a square had three corners
would it still be a square?
Will your curls always swirl
if you tug at your hair?

My curls will always swirl
For questions make them so
You will question me ‘why’
when my answer is ‘no’.
If I answer you  ‘yes’
You will question with ‘how’
If a tree could grow knowledge
I'd reach for a bough.



Details | Light Poetry |

Do you like Pigeons Dad

‘Do you like Pigeons Dad’

“Oh No”

‘But Why?’

“They’re scummy things
They’re Rats with wings
They’re vermin of the sky”

‘That can’t be right Dad’

“It is”

‘How So?’

“They pilfer seed
They breed at speed
And harbour disease you know”

‘Are you sure dad’

“Oh Yes”

‘Since when?’

“Since the Rock Pigeon flew
And ended up in a stew
Since their domestication by men”

‘But I like Pigeons Dad’

“I know
You do”

‘I like how they sing
I like the shape of their wing
So you should like them too’

“But I don’t like Pigeons Son.
Not now.
Not ever.
Their walk is bizarre,
They crap on my car
And they’re really not that clever”

'But Daaaad…

...they wake me in the morning,
With their delightful coo,
Their plumage is wonderful - an iridescent blue.
They look good in the garden Dad
They don’t make such a mess
Do you like Pigeons Dad?’

…“Yes”



[This poem was the result of being asked this question many, many, many times by my son. My son is on the autistic spectrum - he has Asperger's Syndrome to give the official diagnosis. He is a lovely human being & I love him dearly. But one of his most irritating traits, is the fact that he asks the same questions continuously all day every day. No matter how you respond, the same question will be posed minutes later. Currently and for at least the last 2 to 3 years: 'Do you like pigeons daddy?' is his favourite/most frequently asked question. Now that you know that, perhaps you can really feel the exasperation in that final ..."Yes"]


Details | Rhyme |

The Pessimist and The Optimist

Part I - The Pessimist

I am a person without a name
I am a fire without a flame
I am a flower that will never bloom
I am a house without a room
I am a candle that will never melt
I am a feeling that cannot be felt
I am a picture without a frame
I am a goal, without any aim
I am a winner without a prize
I am a party without a surprise
I am a dreamer without a dream
I am a river without a stream
I am a poem without a rhyme
I am a clock that won't show you the time
I am a portrait without a face
I am a trial without a case
I am a key that won't open the door
I am a toy you don't want anymore
I am a bird that forgot how to fly
I am a joker, but I always cry
I am a thing that was never in use
I am a game that somebody will lose
I am a story that will never end
Well, I'm just somebody you won't understand.

:(

Part II - The Optimist

I am a person with a beautiful name
I am a fire with most powerful flame
I am a flower that will always bloom
I am a house with room after room...
I am a candle that burns through the night
I am a feeling of lovers' delight
I am a picture with a solid frame
I am a healer, I carry no shame
I am a winner with the top, 1st place prize
I am a party with the biggest surprise
I am a dreamer with colorful dreams
I am a river with thousands of streams
I am a poem with a perfect rhyme
I am a clock that will show any time
I am a portrait of an angelic face
I am a trial with a strong, worthwhile case
I am a key that unlocks any door
I am a toy you will always adore
I am a bird that soars high in the sky
I am a joker, I forgot to cry
I am a thing that you'll always use
I am a game that you just cannot lose
I am a story that will never end
I am a trip! Come, join me my friend!

:) 


1999

© Copyright



Details | Free verse |

Cornpuff

She wasn't a stray, but a sick yellow cockatiel,
with speckled gray on her feathers.
The pet shop was giving her away,
I was in elementary school when I got her,
she was a lovable bird and I enjoyed holding her.
Very timid she was, you could sort of hear her purr.
Not like a cat but in her own special way,
I would leave her on my stomach as I watched her when I laid. 
She would look at me and still be rather bothered 
of the fast movements of my hand,
and as a child I didn't know any better,
but her frightened little yellow, orange cheeked face
would stretch out and get skinny
and that would make me laugh out so silly.
She was still quite very sick and we kept her in a box,
she didn't leave the house,
she would ride on my shoulder or on my head.
I noticed her feathers where rather ruffled and gloomy,
so I decided to go outside and I think the light almost blew her mind,
'Cause she freaked out screamed!
..Well a little birdie squeal,
and she jumped off onto the ground
and in the grass she looked around.
Thank goodness her wings where clipped,
if not I would be a little girl crying
for a bird she surely missed.
And once again, since I was young 
this act had made me laugh.
By golly corny puff, you're such a scaredy cat!
But then I saw, when she calmed down,
she looked up to the sky,
she watched the sun,
she watched the clouds,
and nibbled the grass blades.
I saw she was enjoying
her small little escapade.
So ever since then, I'd take her out
and sometimes she'd get away,
but she would always fly to the tree out front
so I would have to get on my tippy toes 
and give her some guff.
And as the years passed, we would go out less,
cause as you get older life get's in the way.
I would pet her on the head and off to school I fled,
off to girlfriends,
off to my boyfriend,
off to an interview 
off to a job,
and there Cornpuff stayed.
She would wander the house
and my dad got mad cause he stepped on her once,
but luckily only her tail.
We had a skylight and there she stand next to the fridge,
looking at the light of the day.
In the morning I would wake, to an odd scratching sound,
there she was biting my shoes, rubber crumbs on the ground.
Other days there's a tapping on the mirror,
for she was trying to get her reflection
and one time I looked down from my bed
and there she was trying to get my attention!
I would pick her up and leave her on my chest,
picking on the dry skin on my face.
I would fall asleep and soon would she,
my best friend found her place.


Details | Senryu |

snowegg

the egg has returned 
to the nest
winter break


Details | Rhyme |

Winter Learning Ducks

Afternoons the sky shuts down around the swamp's warning tapes
propped up with restoration piping and dirt leak fencing.
We’re fleeing toward the wild, seeking the names and shapes, 
the same way the Cedar Waxwing flit and grip for berries tree to tree.

Canada Geese are easy, they lead off down the lane leaving residue,
Widgeons have green stripes and gold stripes, one American 
the other European, and they’re all mumbling our family phew-do
they didn’t burn the kid, they can’t keep the house clean, drugs…

Blink away the cold wind tears. Forget all that, only remember
Shovelers have the long low profile and the long bill from studies
in New Zealand, like a deep breath, we set aside work, unlimber
spy the race of killdeer away from their guarding territory in gravel.

Our boss didn’t try to replace us, he ducked out to a new job
leaving the crime ringing in our ears like the police car roaring past.
Head down, we tunnel under the high way finding the dunk and bob
of mergansers and their hallowed or red heads,

remarking differences when the sudden scream of honking
mallards flee up river. Caught off guard, we wonder did we cause
all this pain? The rise and dunk flying goldfinch happily chirping
cling to the thistle, their favorite waste near the waste water

ponds where all the Black River water flows for cleaning
spilling into the nesting lower stages of the tertiary treatment.
That’s all this is, treatment for the shock wave week riding
current events on our shoulders, almost like the red-tailed hawk

that screams and skims our head, rising up to the setting sun 
turning the sky purple and pink and bruised. That’s when wood
ducks skim into view, our breath captured and then steaming undone
but soon the heavens offer confirmation, blue angels
with their huge oversized wings soar in pairs down as gift.
We hold each other then, let screams silence, detail enriched.


Details | ABC |

Blue Bird

Blue Bird

All alone inside of my magical little paradise called my mind is an peaceful and quiet, the sun is like a gentle kiss on the cheek, and the people are just so warm and friendly but watch out because if you open your eyes everything you once knew will be gone. This magical little realm has an bloody little twist to it. The sun that was once as comforting as an warm blanket was in fact the glistening moon and the empty black sky, and the people are now all blood thirsty monsters that are no longer affected by the sun light are now out for blood.

I run to escape the sickening but yet oh so enticing scent of blood and failure, I run to escape the screams of those who's lives were cut just too short, and I run to escape the sight of the undead, blood thirsty zombies who are on the hunt for others to join their group. I'm running, running to safety and security but all the time there's nothing but pit falls and traps. I'm running and success isn't that far away but just then I see prince charming I stop and become distracted by his promising words but just then he too becomes a monster. I scream and try to run but I just can't you trap me in fire and I can't escape. 

My mind goes numb, I can feel the darkness further enclose around me, my mind goes blank, and I forget about everything. On the inside I'm screaming, fighting, kicking to get away but on the outside I'm a love sick puppy. I know I'm stronger than this but there's something about you that I just can't get over. Just as the darkness seems to grow closer an light appears and an blue bird fights off my nightmare monster and takes me back to my snowy paradise where I'm safe and at peace and I continue my lonely dark and cold path to my brightly lite future with the little blue bird by my side reminding me that I am and will forever be loved by both my family, people who actually care about me, and god.


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