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Bird Hope Poems | Bird Poems About Hope

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

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Details | Haibun | |

Kindred Spirits

~(tanka haibun)~


    Awakened from my walking reverie by movement ahead, I spy a Red-Tailed Hawk perched upon the wrought-iron railing of the flood-wall. The hawk is regal, stoic beauty. I stop walking in hopes of urging the bird of prey to stay its perch. It does, filling me with a sense of relief. I wonder why it let me get so close; if it was my calm, thoughts-up-in-the-clouds, meditative stroll that somehow rendered my thoughts and steps silent enough to catch the bird unawares. We eye each other, a bitter gust of mid-winter wind blows against my face; ruffles the back-feathers of the hawk. I am overwhelmed by a sensation how the two of us know exactly what we are, who we are, what we are supposed to be doing overall, but we are presently caught in a moment of unknowns, letting these unknowns erase the lines that keep us separate -- beast from human. 
I take a step closer, causing the hawk to finally alight, and I am struck by its vibrant feathers adding a dash of colour to the surrounding monochromatic grays. 
The hawk flies only a short distance ahead before landing on the railing again, so we re-enact the scene of this play. I come closer, closer, closer, until the hawk lifts up, flies a bit further along the river-walk, before landing again, until eventually it probably decides, that indeed, this human is going to traverse the entire path, for the hawk flies up into trees located further ahead. As I walk past the trees, the hawk launches out of an evergreen, with twigs in its talons. The bird flies over the river; a river made tumultuous by ice-melt.

in Winter's gray light
a Red-Tailed Hawk paints the sky 
with its feathers,
my soul lifts, follows the bird
over an ice-gorged river

The hawk lands on the base of a church steeple, and disappears behind an ornately carved corner. It appears as if the steeple is attempting to pierce the snow-clouds with its tip, trying to tear gashes in the sky, until spring blue bleeds into gray. On this Tuesday afternoon, does the church seem personified because it is devoid of Sunday parishioners milling in and out of its thick wooden doors? No matter how hard the steeple tries to break-apart the clouds, the grand sky dwarfs the church, causing it to look like a toy model. The church fluctuates between looking like a miniature-scale model, and an architectural feat.

with defiance
the steeple pierces clouds
looming overhead -
the snow-laden clouds
make the church appear small

Passing the church, I find it ironic how today the church is empty inside, yet on its steeple and roof-lines, countless animals are nesting, making this House of God their sanctuary. Slowly making my way home, I ponder about the hawk, how it is not only a predator amongst prey, but a predator amongst predators -- it flies around in plain sight, yet also hides right in the middle of the city. Coming up to the path leading to the back-door of my home, I scan a small trail of footprints in the snow. The footprints vary, but all are familiar to me. 
It is at precisely this moment that I fully acknowledge the Red-Tailed Hawk and I to be kindred spirits; how similar we really are.

the path leading home
is a winding snowy trail
of few footprints,
for only my loved ones know
where I truly live



.


Details | Free verse | |

The Speed of Flight

A small thunder of beating wings fell
Into it, I threw my hopes and prayers
should his light fail and end succeed,
the thunder would roll on

The fury of his need steals his days, and 
I cannot breathe for lack of understanding 
why the good die young, why
the good does not last 

Chaser of fear after a pint of exhilaration
drowns my joy in knowing
the horizon rises against him, and
I cannot change his course

- A. H. Sewell ©2015

You can pick up a copy of my eBook "City Sticks - A Collection of 50 Poems" from Smashwords at the link listed below. Come stop by my blog or friend/follow me on Facebook, too! (Links listed below.)

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/539072


www.facebook.com/HelanaSewell1
www.ahsewell.weebly.com


Details | Free verse | |

Learning To Fly Again

Voice of Scandinavia
(learning to fly again)

In the twilight hour
Blue mountain range
Changing to dark giants

Mysterious figures springs 
.. out of the steep hill sides
Hour of mysteries and fantasies

You`ve been runnin`for too long
Now you`ll be hiding in the dark
Protected behind Mother Nature`s shield

At the break of dawn
Mother Nature, relieve my pain
This time it may very well be my last
Take this injured bird up to the mountain range 
Let it spread its wings, and learn to fly again

Soar above high mountain peaks
Colorful valleys - all from a birds eye
Its all I know.. All I ever wanted to know
Great Spirit of Nature.. keep me under your protective wings
Lift my soul and let it fly, let me learn to fly again


A. Ertsland
June 29th 2012

* Inspired by finding a little bird who had fallen out of its nest earlier this year.See ya:-)


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 | Couplet | |

Eyes of a Child

Looking all around me and becoming more aware,
Of the people and surroundings at which many children stare.

I come to terms and realize the acts of hate I see,
And now I fear that this same scene will soon envelope me.

Walking on a lonesome road, though crowded it may seem,
I pass through silent hordes of people hushing silent screams.

Beside me standing hand-in-hand, older man and wife,
I wonder if they thought like me, what happened to their life.

I reminisce now further back before these broken days,
A time of wasting food and drink and dressing different ways.

But now we all look just alike in tattered grays and browns,
Drifting through these damaged streets and sporting matching frowns.

I thought we'd left the two world wars and poverty behind,
To linger in our broken books and fill an older time.

A time where death would cloud the world with sorrow and disease,
And fear would plant itself within the innocent with ease.

This made me think and look around for Noah and his arc,
And for the first time since the night I heard a flustered lark.

I quickly turned around to spot within a child's hands,
An injured bird whose time had brought it here from other lands.

The child stole a piece of thread from a redbreast robin's nest,
And wrapped around the ailing bird a splint so it could rest.

An hour past the lark took flight and answered to the wild;
The only resting place of hope is in the bright eyes of a child.


Details | Quatrain | |

Song Bird

If I were a song bird
I'd soar on feathered wing
to light upon your window sill
my song for you I'd sing.

Each note I'd fill with tenderness
as much as I employ
if you would let me sing for you
I'd fill your heart with joy.

If I were a song bird
to you I'd sing my story.
If it would fall on willing ears
my sad heart would know glory.

Each note infused with sweetness
I would sing with all my heart
the songs you have inspired
right from the very start.


Details | Alliteration | |

The Night Owl

Hoot! Hoot! Came the call
In silence I listened,heard
Nothing.
Suddenly, hoot! Hoot! 
Came the cry,tree 
Branches rustling,wings 
Flapping.
Seems the world was in 
Oblivion-the absolute 
Silence.
Went I to the window 
and Looked into the 
empty Darkness. As I lay 
down,I Knew somewhere 
I would Hear that sound 
again.


Details | Sonnet | |

Spring Hope

And now the weeping willow turns to green.
So brilliant red, the robin’s breast,
Just like the sun, now sinking in the West,
And down the lane more signs of spring are seen :

The spiky blackthorn blossom’s shining white –
It looks as if the hedgerow’s decked with snow.
Beneath, the peeping primrose seems to glow
With luminous and creamy lunar light.

Come hear the soaring skylark’s tuneful song
And listen to the jackdaw’s chimney chat.
See squabbling sparrows startled by the cat
As through the undergrowth he slinks along.

We mark these signs of Spring so early in the year,
But damage from late frosts may dash our hopes I fear.


Details | Free verse | |

As Inspired by The Death of a Bird A D Hope

As Inspired by The Death of a Bird . A D Hope
From rhyming to Free Verse

A last migration comes to every bird
as every winter before her heart afire,
 she follows a pre set-course
divinley guided half a world away.

Coming or going her destination is home, 
there to nest, to raise another brood
knowing that generations drive her grand obsession
the self exile that weighs her heart and breast

She sees around her unfamiliar landscape
 longs for lush valleys and trees of evergreen
With each day  her inner call grows stronger, 
fills her with an urgent sense to  flight
 to take to the endless skies- one tiny bird, uncertain, of her flock,
 alone in the vast and blue unfriendly sky

Her wings falter, she feels the end is near
Whatever held her course before
 is snuffed with no warning-
she tries but her path is aimless
Below, the landscape is a sign less blur
a puzzle of mountains and lakes
 that baffle her tiny brain

From dark valleys below a black fog rises
Hostile winds impede the frail speck
And the earth not grieving or malevolent
bears the small worry of her death.

Suzanne Delaney
 See :About this Poem link  above for the original text.


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.


Details | Free verse | |

My Heart Sings

As the first rays of sunshine
wakes me out of my sleepy slumber,
I sat up in bed and looked at my hands.
The taste of stale cigarette smoke of cheap red wine
stained my taste buds.
I walked out of bed,
turned on the radio
(to the classical station)
and my heart beats to the tune
my life and soul smile as the sun shines in my room.
I hear God whispering in my ear
I hear all the words of the world
talking to me,
and I can hear my heart sing a little.
I read my poetry,
get dressed go for a walk,
I smile at the faces that I pass;
The cars I pass,
the houses,
the trees,
the dry lawns,
burnt and that have not been watered in days.
I smile at them and they all smile back,
and my heart sings a little,
and I dance to its simple tune.

My heart sings and I dance too:
slowly melodies,
fast jigs,
rapid jazz and swing music
and waltzes to the chopin masterpieces,
and the romantic stories, novels, the poems,
that fancy your mind with its ryhme schemes,
and after I read such romantic beauty
I smile, and I listen closely to my heart,
and with every beat,
it lets out a verse or two, from a familiar song
that caught my ear on the radio,
and my heart sings
and I smile,
and the world smiles back.

Feeling such beauty
love and romance
it is such a good feeling to live with;
and as the night rolls on,
and the sun goes away
I sit at my desk
writing poetry,
with a cigarette slowly burning away with time,
and I am stuck,
getting drunk of red wine,
I sit back in my chair,
and listen to my heart,
and he sings alittle
and I can write again.
So, there we sit together,
writing poetry,
smoking cigarettes,
drinking wine
to the strike of nine
and we both sing songs of love and romance
together forever.


Details | Epyllion | |

A PHEONIX IN HER HEART

Once upon a fortunate time
I saw a princess that was so sublime.
She was *embellished with the beauty of a Seraph.
Therefore, in her heart, I sowed a seed that would etch a lovely *pyrograph.
That special *calescent egg of divine source
Was implanted to guide the maiden on her predestined course.
Then, as time passed by, the eggshell began to crack.
'Twas a rare bird breakin' through the sack.
And behold! a baby Pheonix.
Oh...there was the babe in love's *matrix!
Right away the little chick began emitting sparks-
Tiny sparklin' flares which left fond marks.
Despite that, as the bird grew, she ignore'
Due to the shyness that was resting in her core.
Thus the foul began to feel *claustrophobic.
So... that was the moment to perform fervor's magic.
Overwhelmed with an ardent vehemence the Pheonix lit on fire,
And, inhaling and exhaling, flames he did respire.
Then, the horizon of the young girl's heart got ablazed.
Suddenly, the lass began to feel amazed.
And right after, a conflagration of passion consumed all resistance,
Thereby leaving peace on the fiery bird's semblance.
Now it was able to soar through the sweetheart's soul.
So the Pheonix accomplished his fate and the damsel her goal--
'Cause she pursued her prince,
And *enamoring him, they lived happily ever after since. 

*Embellish-- adorn.
*Pyrogragh-- a design produced by pyrograghy. Pyrograghy is the act of producing drawings 
on wood, leather, etc., by using heated tools or a fine flame.
*Calescent-- increasing in warmth; getting hot.
*Matrix-- an enclosure within which something originates or develops; a womb.
*Claustrophobic-- suffering from claustrophobia. Claustrophobia means an abnormal fear of 
being enclosed in a confined space.
*Enamor-- inspire with love or delight. 


For Sami Al-Khalili's contest

  


Details | Lyric | |

The Apple PASTURE

DONE



                             The Apple PASTURE

Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.



                                               Jay


Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Hope Is A Beautifully Feathered Bird

Beauty comes to seek
words of tender calm.
Love and laughter reign
in the heart refreshed.
Eyes behold the view.

Hope will rise up
in the sweet dawn.
Skies will open
as the birds soar.

Life sings out
brand new notes.
Built with strength.

Embrace 
such change.

Hope.


for the contest Diminished Hexaverse  sponsored by Dr. Ram Mehta


Details | Rhyme | |

Let me go

              Let me go
 show me out the door with kind words
  I want you to Love me ..
  not punish by Force
 My Prison, my warden 

                 Let me go
          My choice to be Free
      Free of suppression,  of my own creativity
       let me decide for myself
               my destiny 

                Let me go
           let go of me gracefully
     I belong to myself , children and God
       Let me go , let go of me 
                 I am free 
            to choose to love and give
                 I am Free 
          from what burdens me 
                now I am Free
            


Details | Sonnet | |

Wounded Bird of Flight

Young love bird wounded during your flight
Worried now where your companion landed
You sing a beautiful song, but still no sight
Certainly now he must have gotten stranded

The magical serenade continues to no avail
Some concern now for your own well being
This winter flight treacherous you feel frail
The singing stops, you are hardly breathing

One pilgrimage not completed you feel pain
Some guilt overtakes when you start to heal
The flying before your partner was it in vain
Or is there.a bird needing your singing still

Bird of flight your journey is still not done
Heal now, continue to fly for the other one


Penned by Wayland Bunch 2/12/2013










Details | Tanka | |

Nature's Loneliness

                              Cherry blossom tree
                       swaying by an ice glazed pond 
                               lonely skylark perched
                       singing a song for it's flock
                       a chill wind blows alone he waits.

3/30/15    contest sponsored by: Rick Parise  'One New Tanka'
                           T Reams       4th Place


Details | Lyric | |

I give you me

I give you me

The green grass all around me
Seems so velvet soft this morning
As two wagtails whistle tunefully
As we sit amidst the Roses
Your blue eyes look so gentle
 And send your magic essence right into me.

My mystic, magic maiden
How you smile just like an angel
As the sadness in your eyes it whispers to me
That you have suffered cruelly
And because I love you truly
I know that I must treat you tenderly.

I’ll do my best, to make you happy
I’ll give you joy, I’ll give you me
I’ll give you all I have 
so very joyfully
I‘ll give you me….All of yours I be..

I’ll love you magic maiden
Till the day we be no more
You have my heart, so treat it very gently
We’ll face our lives together
Through fine and stormy weather
You’ll always have my love
I give you me.

Sept 6 2006.    


Details | I do not know? | |

Crazy Bird

Always in my mind,
My thoughts driving my mind crazy,
More than you can imagine.

Deep inside my heart 
Is pounding and asking,
For you to come near me.

Like a crazy bird,
I wish I could sit on,
Your shoulder where ever you go.


Details | Ballad | |

Hope Is Born Again

How do we begin to live with this sin
Will the pain lessen in time
Shall it beat me and always be mine
Why would anyone choose something so vile
Was it worth it
I wonder
I will never know.....

 Today four cardinals  appeared in my yard
A glimpse of hope an peace once more
Maybe there is life beyond this day
and Beauty and Love will again find a way.......
To once again rule our day.......


Details | Ballade | |

In defense of the chook



The chook defense

Now I’m no vegetarian
Though I’d like that this could be
At seventy I’ll never change
So I’m just stuck with me
And I really love’s me chook
In every kind of way
But now I’m in the mood I’m in
I just have this to say…..

If we’re going to eat these chooks
Don’t we owe them some respect
We treat them like commodities
But what I might reflect
Is, if we treat these creatures thus
That God placed on this earth
Then we neglect our very souls
And too our own self worth.

Those birds are treated so damn mean
How can one understand
This cruelty, are we then humane?
It don’t look too damn grand
And where’s the goodness in a food
That’s never seen the sun
So when we treat these birds like this
What damage have we done?

That chicken flue was scary, once
But who knows much at all
About the karma that can come
From things, unnatural.
It’s time for changes in this world
When dosh is not the ‘all’
And then humane might be a word
That’s truly wonderful

10 July 2013 @ 1301hrs.



Details | Lyric | |

Would I were a Yellow Bird

Would I were a yellow bird,
No woes would be on me
I’d fly me past the Sawney roofs
And past the canopy,
O I’d fly so high above this earth
Above this great frontier,
You’d think me but a yellow bird
Just a-gone and disappeared.

I’d soar out into sunlit skies
Where the clouds have all gone home
And I’d soar out over churning tides,
Bleached white with briny foam
Well I’d soar above the lofty peaks
Of mountains gray and blue
Just to perch atop those crowns of rock
And sit in wait for you.

O I’d fly tomorrow if I could,
In fact I’d fly today,
But my wings have not grown strong enough
To fly me anyway
So here I’ll sit, atop this nest
These skies I’m doomed to roam
Would I were a yellow bird,
Then I would fly me home.


Details | Couplet | |

Strong Little Bird

For several weeks now, I have been watching 
A strong little bird through my window.

She appeared one day on the ledge as I looked out,
And I was touched, I felt some kind of connection..

At first, this bird was shy, like all birds she would fly,
At the slightest sign of danger, so I tried to keep still.

But each day she came back, and we both grew more trusting,
And started to break through our webs of apprehension.

With time, her visits were more frequent and relaxed,
And I was always thinking about how I could support her.

Some days were sunny, others were cold and snowy,
But she was fearless and always shared those moments with me.

I think we both usually spend most of our time alone,
And so our little bond has grown into something very special.

Yesterday, she came very close and I almost could touch her,
I could feel how she wanted to be comforted by my hand.

I was so excited, waves of joy surged up inside me,
And all at once the tears started to flow down my face.

And now it’s a new day and I am waiting with renewed feelings,
For the happiness of this relationship with my strong little bird.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Birdie

That birdie was singing a beautiful song
I pretended it was for me
The notes played like a musical flute
Its melody a symphony

I looked around that little bird
Sitting in an evergreen tree
What could make it sing like that?
Was it really singing for me?

Manna fell from heaven
As breadcrumbs found their way
And the birdie sang even louder
It had something it wanted to say

To live in the moment
And appreciate this gift
I look at the birdie
And my soul it does lift

For even heaven knows the birdie
Its every need and care
It worries not for tomorrow
It appreciates the breeze - the air

I want to be the birdie
Singing a beautiful song
Let me remember this moment
May it live ever long


Details | Haiku | |

Our Little Bird

dropped out of your nest
my daughter begs for your life
love you little bird


Details | Personification | |

Gods Perfect Plan

Today I saw a bird in flight and began to wonder why
God made us to walk on earth and made the bird to fly

Then I began to think way back when I was just a kid
I often dreamed of flying then some time I think I did

I still can see me flying high while looking down below
oh' the dream it was so neat I wish it had been so

God had a plan for man and what he wanted him to be
it wasn't flying through the air or swimming in the sea

But now as I think back on this I see God's perfect plan
he never meant for beast or foul to take the place of man

Yes he made the birds to fly and made the beast to roam
but man he made to rule them all and walk the road alone

Then God saw that it was wrong not to give the man a mate
so he took a rib from Adam's side and women he did make

God put them in a garden there and took great care of them
now I think you know the rest what separated them from him

But God still had a plan for man and sent him Jesus Christ
and now we have to pray to him to forgive us of our past

now I still dream of flying high and know some day I can
when Jesus Christ will take us home forever to be with him


























Details | Rhyme | |

Caged Bird

It’s so hard to balance myself every day on a pole
With my wings all clipped, and cut out with my soul
Hung on a ceiling, it may just as well be a hole
Where I am perched at the edge where I rock and I roll

As an old church bell rings out the names of many a free soul
It’s so hard for me to find my way, and to ever be free
Where on this pole, I only see the outside of a glass wall 
I dream of flying away each day but will they ever let me? 

Even if I fell off the perch, and hurt, there is nowhere to fall 
I am just so tired of balancing myself on this old cold pole
If not I can’t see outside and dream I break thru the glass wall
If I drop to the bottom again, I know I won’t see anything at all
 
Like in the dark of the night, there is nothing to see at all
As the curtain each night is pulled over to hide the glass wall
As I wait alone hung out on a porch on a hook and a pole
With only dreams to fly, one day on the other side with you all
															    
And with no one to help me out of this dark caged hole
Where I sit and I wait to hear the bells ring their very next toll
Hung out in the cold dark night, on a hope and a dream to be free
As I wait by the window hoping the next bell that rings is for me 


Details | Free verse | |

Amazing Little Bird

Amazing little Bird

So beautiful it is
Moving free as solid floats
Jumping from grass to glee
Always beside the green
The butterfly flutters by…

Her colors lighten the world
So bright and so pretty
Tailed to the rainbow
To freshen the sky
The butterfly flutters by…

Her movement as travelling water
She is the amazing little bird
Singing to her is lovely
Though she’s got no voice
The butterfly flutters by…

She is the best sky life
Keeping me alive in fresh breath
She makes the parks 
And combines souls
The butterfly flutters by…

She lives to my serve
She inspires my desires
So when the sky is dark
And the rains drop from high
I’ll always thank the butterfly


Details | Lyric | |

Walk On

If I could write a story,I'd write about the past.
The masks and all the words I was afraid to speak.
It would be a story without moral.
I've learned nothing from this journey.
The chapters would be short and simple
In the form of thoughts and riddles.

If I could write a poem to heal myself
I'd un-bandage these wounds
And let them bleed on my page.
I promised myself I wouldn't wait.
I wouldn't have hope but thanks to you
That's all I know.
I'd pack all these things and give them to you,
Because I know patience and love are both virtues.
But if you burned them as physical memories
You know I'd understand.

Wave steady and ignore the tragedy.
Torn between the stories and poetry.
Wave steady and ignore this disaster.
Rummage through the wreck and salvage what you can.
Walk around and hope that you never see
This fragile bird and his broken wings.

There's no shame to sing your favorite song
To save your life.
I'll sing all that I can sing,
And I'll say all that I can say
To make sure I turn out alright.

Walk on and ignore  this tragedy.
Torn between the stories and poetry.
Walk on and ignore this disaster.
Rummage through the wreck and salvage what you can.
Walk on and hope that you never see
This fragile bird and his broken wings.

And I'll sing all that I can sing.
I'll say all that I can say
To make sure I turn out alright.


Details | Shape | |

A Bird's Eye View of Life

               I CALL THIS THE PYRAMID OF LIFE AND THE BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF IT.



                                                            A
                                                         single, 
                                                       little bird,
                                                     is flying high
                                                  above a rainbow.
                                              Even though it is small, 
                                            it believes that everything
                                          can forever be accomplished.
                                        No matter how hard the struggle,
                                     it will work hard to succeed in it's life.
                                    Whatever comes it's way, it will be true
                                  to it's heart...and with the Lord on it's side,
                               the bird will be happy. Even if the bird does'nt
                              achieve it's goals, it will be satisfied with the life
                             that it has. Life is what the little bird will make of it.
                           The moral of this story is...no matter what life throws
                          your way...be joyous with what you have and cherish it. 
                        Live life to the fullest, as if it may be the last day on earth.

                                                    


                                                     Dawn D. Kilby 
                                         Copyright ©2008  Dawn D. Kilby