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Bird Forgiveness Poems | Bird Poems About Forgiveness

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

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Details | Personification | |

The Old Tree

It is strange
how things that we see
and take for granted
in everyday life
should suddenly instil
in our minds
a new awareness
of their presence

A silent moment
a brief pause
from life's ever quickening pace
a moment of peace -
in times like these
a common thing
like a dried old tree
becomes alive with beauty

It stands like a quiet sentinel
who has witnessed 
many an event 
through time
Time has passed by 
but it remains 
silently standing there
O Tree!
What secrets do you store
in your noble branches?
How many events have you recorded
that man knows nothing of?

In your younger days
when you wore your mantle of green
you nested the carefree birds
to their offspring
you gave protection
When the sun scorched the earth
you gave them cool shade
On a cool windy night
you gave them warmth
How pleasant was their song 
to your ear 
as they sang a song of thanks
to you

You were a playmate to the children
When they romped at your feet
or climbed on your branches
you smiled
Time grew older
and the children became lovers
You saw them kiss in your shade
soft with the light of the moon
The aura of their love
touched your leaves
and you blushed

Today 
they have all gone away
but you still remain 
silent sentinel
still waiting and watching
How many untold events 
have you witnessed
faithful keeper of secrets?

O that my soul could commune with you
and share of your rugged beauty!
Most Noble Tree!
forgive me for my
once-waxen eyes

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Return Of Your King

Reflections of imperfections have shown me a way that I can move mountains through my power of faith even though I can't see him I know he is real through the power of prayer and a Love that I feel It's growing inside me like a flower in bloom shall I reveal my powers or is it too soon I am reading the signs through my darkness I find a reason for belief in the light of mankind that I know shall overcome the greatest of odds the Love I seek amazes me especially through the flaws because now I am inspired through the hero's that bring my throne through the darkness on which I return on as your King.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Acrostic | |

Your Eyes

 (Dedicated to Folake)

Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.

Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.

May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
 
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.

Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.

Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.

Copyright © Onis Sampson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Two Hearts full of Love

I am a heart full of love
that shook the pilars that held her colussium up
her heart filled with sorrow,
I swing such fury toward her heart and soul
she cowards away from me,
in fear of falling in love and not knowing what is in black
and not searching what is in the light of pure white.

I am a heart full of love,
she runs and takes the long dirt road,
through the raging mountains of the quiet countryside,
as the meadows of lilacs slowly die when Spring comes,
the blooming of the rose,
like the blooming of my heart,
a blossom on a cherry tree fall and harbour in the wintertime.
I swing toward her, she falls in fear of wanting attention and love.
Lost in the midnight twilight,
the flaming torch guides her through the dark holes of meaningless souls.
and like a frightened hummingbird,
she flees away from the secrets of falling in love.

A heart full of love ready to love,
it is diffcult to feel and to show,
but as if a rose that blooms in Springtime
my love is ready to bloom.

Pettles lay along a darkened atmosphere
lit up only with four wax candles
a portrait of a woman hung over a mantel piece
in honour of my one true love.

As the twilight shine though my bedroom window,
I show a heart full of love,
to take and to hold for eternity.

And as she slowly moves forward,
she takes me home with her,
and opens her chest and shows me her heart
with a glass of red wine and charming cigarette.
She sheads tears of pain and sorrow on my broud shoulder,
I curise her hair, silk laced hair,
shining against the twilight and the moonlit sky.

My heart full of love,
so divine, so original
a one of a kind.

We make love in the midst of the twilight,
as my dream girl is now reality and my pain is no more,
her pain is no more.
Too show such love makes a man feel free
and his soul lighter.
She holds him there,
as the sun rises over the mountains.
The birds sing a tune of cheerfulness,
and they talk about everything beautiful and kind,
that is still left in this cruel and empty hearted world.

Romance and love shared
with a heart full of love,
smile and kiss upon smooth lips,
feel me against your tight body,
and love me till the morning
when Blue eyed Death is staring us in the face.
and we go with him,
and play a game of risk,
and together forever,
onto a diffrent world
we shall love each other forever,
for you and I both have a heart full of love.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The Mockingbird

The mockingbird returns in spring. 
What it does best is sing, sing, sing.
Its sings of this and sings of that
and leaves no doubt of where it’s at.

It sings all day . . well into night:
grows irksome past that first delight.
And always comes back from its stay,
to that same bush, not far away. 

The birds of winter soon are gone.
Most of them have now moved on.
And mockingbird with typical gall,
Attempts to mimic one and all.

A busy bird it glides and swoops.
Will challenge one or even groups.
When feeling threatened for its young;
A bird-war barrage has begun.

This slender mid-sized bird of grey,
Will be here soon; it's on its way.
Once again to sing, sing, sing,
To let us know it's really spring.

And late into each summer night,
Once I get past that first delight.
I'll wish from on my patio chair:
It wasn't here, but rather . . there!

Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015

Details | ABC | |

Grey Bird

On that cloudy weekend in June 
I hear a soft and graceful tune 
from the grey bird on the tree 
branch 
Singing sweet lullabies felt 
blessed in the moment 
My body tingles of joy at sight 
Gazing out through 
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon 
Heart filled with emotion came 
over me 
Grey bird stood playing its tune 
for awhile and on the wings of 
letting go
Then as the rain fell from the 
sky the grey bird flew away 
gracefully 
I blew a kiss to the clouds and 
utterd these simple words of I 
Love You father ( who's now in 
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear 
that grey bird sing again once 
more for me 
Farewell, love your son

Poem contest for Debbie -referential

Copyright © Brian Otoole | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

it ends with a question

i am not a bird whose black
 for i am a blackbird
with my lumpy back 
turned away from her
the dying moon 
shadowing pale blue waters
made this blackbird teary 
where as a bird who was black
they'd be dreary
but i felt the dying moon
 hover over my galaxy
i soared closer
for a pinch more
i am the last blackbird 
facing this mountain
in awe that her final thouqhts towards me were beautiful
she freed the sun 
for the sake
of the butterflies flying inside me?

Copyright © Chante Reeves | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 

Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme royal | |

THE DAY WE COOKED OUR GOOSE

I recall one winter’s morning I went fishing with my mate,
And we'd both been out the night before, and got in far too late.
But a promise is a promise, and I said that I would drive
To the gravel pits in Park Street, where we'd start at half past five.

We both liked going piking – though it’s quite a little trip,
But once you've got your bait out, you can have yourself a kip.
And as we rarely ever catch much, it makes such a peaceful day,
For if we’re not busy sleeping we can fish the hours away.

Then just as I got settled down, with the float out in my swim,
I heard my mate start shouting - what the hell was up with him?
So I quickly reeled my bait in, and grabbed my landing net.
I thought, I’d better go and help him; it's a monster I would bet.
And when I got behind him, I could see what lit his fire,
A swan had swum across his line and tangled in the wire.

Well it fought and flapped and spun and squawked and tried to get away,
But the line was far too strong and tight and would have held all day.
There was sadly nothing we could do, it really was a sod,
Though my mate, he kept his grip on, case it flew off with his rod.
Eventually it stopped moving; you could tell that it was dead,
So we pulled it in and cut the line that wrapped around its head.

Thank God that no one saw us; we were down there all alone,
I said, “We'll have to hide the body.”  He said, “No, I'll take it home.
We must be sure that no one finds it, so I'll give it to my dad.
And as the Queen’s the owner – she’s the last one we want mad.”
I said, “What if we're pulled over and police start searching me?
We'll be locked up in the tower and they'll chuck away the key.”

So I drove home oh so carefully, in my fear of being stopped.
It was the ‘baddest’ thing I'd ever done - I'd die if we were copped.
Then at last we got to his house and we hid it in his garage,
As long as my mum never knows - it could cost my dad his marriage.
He said, “Just leave the rest to me; I'll phone you later on,
And tell you what my dad decides about this bloody swan.”

Well, the hours went past so slowly, and the guilt began to claw;
It felt like we had robbed a bank and were hiding from the law.
Then eventually he rang and said his dad had flipped his lid,
And if I called by next morning, he would tell me what he did.
Well it made for me an anxious night, and sleeping very hard;
How would I explain a visit from the Yeoman of the Guard?

I reached his house at ten to twelve; and dinner smelt just great.
His mum said I should stay and eat, and laid another plate.
And when at last we all sat down, she carried in the roast;
It was the biggest bird I'd ever seen, and was like I'd seen a ghost.
You see, my mate's dad’s a butcher, and to him a bird's a bird.
And his mum thought she'd cooked a goose, so not to say a word.

It was the finest Sunday dinner that I've had in all my days,
As it tasted just amazing in a million different ways.
So that’s why they're protected - and just posh folk are allowed,
It's because they taste so special and just one can feed a crowd.
Then his mum gave me a doggy bag to make my taste buds tickle;
I was the only boy in work next day with rolls of ‘swan and pickle’.

(Sorry Your Majesty it was an honest accident)

Copyright © Dennis East | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet | |

Flying away

From the mouth of babes                                                                                               so came forth your perfect praise                                                                             Unless you change like the little child                                                                                and receive one as such meek and mild                                                                   Chances are that your heart is hard                                                                               do not miss the kingdom by half a yard                                                                           Leaving the womb crying for breathe no doubt                                                                 before you leave this world facing death cry out                                                             He will give you a new heart full of love                                                                       just ask like the child harmless as a dove

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? | |

Free bird

I had a waking moment but it was soon
to be forgotten.

Rising from a peaceful sleep, now I'm 
intrigued.

Feels like myself and my mind have made
a deal, for now this revelation has to
remain concealed.

I know in perfect timing the truth shall
be revealed. Right now I shall continue
chiselling at my chains, it's strange because
the words "free bird" seem to reign.

Copyright © Andy Craig | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Fiery Bird Over JAMAICA




Cold Black SHEILD,,, Darkens 
The Sum of All Fears,,, 
shivered 
by fright,,,in us,,, but Arises 
This warm covenant sighting  
Blooded Moon Era cover,,, over 
Jamaica,,and looms this fiery 
bird,,, as A guidance of angels 
council,,, swoops,, the sound,,, 
of fire speaking in tongue,,, for 
those who believe,,, thy 
testimony,,,Thee O'Lord our 
Father, Son&Holy Spirit, shall 
fulfill them,,, unto those who 
do 
not weary HIM,,, shall cometh 
upon to be SAVED,,, amongst 
the King's Return,,, at worlds 
end,,, shalt have a 
paradises,,,everlasting 
afterlife,,, into new beginning,,, 
and to all who deny him,,, shalt 
perish fire forever,,, among the 
pit of hell, with a two-headed 
serpent,,,  anti-Christ,,, by a 
bitten stamp,,, SO CHOOSE 
YOU SIGHTING,,, 
CAREFULLY,?? 
THE CHOICE IS YOURS,,,,

(C) All Rights Reserved






Copyright © Carma Reed | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |

A Money Pot

A man was frightened and entered into a room,
He fell in the corner and touched a broom,
He read that wording to touch a middle pot,
You can get some money that’s I have lot.

When he touched a pot it grew up a tree,
Please pour me water otherwise you aren’t free.
He picked a pot and starts to search water,
When he found a well he heard a loud laughter,

I need someone’s blood if you need pot water,
Otherwise don’t blame me I have a man slaughter,
He suddenly saw a bird and thought to kill him,
But bird said, you can slaughter me first go and tell him.

He told him to the well, I have a bird to kill,
Do you accept the blood that is only my thrill?
Mice heard the talk and he got a shock,
Why is he killing a bird, he has blood hoick?

Why is your heart n’t kind and have no mercy?
Please forgive him a bird I have a clue courtesy,
I can cut your wein you can donate blood to a well,
I am offering my friendship, that’s my thrill.

He was happy to donate blood and got water a pot,
When he poured water to a tree he laughed lot,
A big fish eats a little never have a mercy thought,
Friendship can solve a problem that’s my money pot.

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana | Year Posted 2005