North Carolina—a beautiful place of humble abode,
On summer vacations or all the year round.
Rife with history, the Wright Brothers showed,
Thanks to Kitty Hawk's sand dunes at heights quite profound,
Hosting Earth's first manned flight on wings at our coast.
Carolina Tarheels—the battle cries loud,
Across our green state, Biltmore east, towards Kill Devil Hills.
Rolling gently across cotton and tobacco fields plowed,
Over civil war lands defended with vigor and skill.
Lakes and streams they're a plenty, abundant wildlife to boast,
Identified as "Southern" south of Mason-Dixon’s own line.
North Carolina place of wonder, from mountains to coast,
Appalachian Trail hikers by the thousands lovingly opine.
So the next time you feel, the need to discover,
Visit North Carolina's splendor, with a friend, sister, or brother!
Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2014
the shipwrecked sailor
from the North
lands on land
between the seas
nothing but trees
the trees shade him from the sun
in the sky
the sky provides a medium
in which the birds
from the trees
and the birds
nested in the trees
provide the sailor
birds to fry
the shipwrecked sailor
after his bird meal
still can’t fly
Copyright © RUDOLPH RINALDI | Year Posted 2014
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,
thinks it must sing . . for them 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
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
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
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © wayland bunch | Year Posted 2013
As I fly,
the deep blue sky,
I look for prey,
on the forest floor,
as I elegantly soar,
I can spot a hare,
a mile down,
and dive at 100,
to the ground,
I am the acrobat,
of the air,
and the king of the sky,
without a care.
Copyright © RobieLynn Collins | Year Posted 2014
It burns and it stings.
More than drowning beneath
More than remaining in a
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
Nothing looked the same in
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears
The others-they were yet to
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
Rampage and rage why did you
I began to wither and wither
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a
The droops of the Lily of the
Valley became the slumping of
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
Your intense spirt vanished only
to supplement a monster.
Mother, Monster and your tar
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
My lovely bird and your big
I'll tell you once, but never
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
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
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
Sweet bird, sweet bird
With wing so wide
Fly the night
To distant tide
Let your weary heart soar high
On breezes meant to glide
No birds of prey disguise the day
Bring your wings to me, this way
You pass through darkened rainbows near
On the very edge of fear
Oh, how the winds do blow
Their course unknown to you
But let your aching wings bring height
Above the storm tonight
Oh. let the sun shine bright
Amid tomorrow light
On wings so bold of dreams of old
A love that's past that so I hold
Sweet bird, sweet bird
Copyright © Terry Noack | Year Posted 2013
The Craters Of Costa Rica
Welcome Moon, Mars and craters, to your cousin Costa Rica
Mountain walls rise up in orange display, in gravel and red clay
Hug the twisting narrow roads in terror
Clinging to the mountains
Brilliant birds and lizards compliment the wilds there
They scatter at the thunder sound in earthquake orchestration
Volcanoes sound the trumpet of the day
Deep holes punctuate the asphalt windings
People driving straight, inebriated, take no comfort in the hole
Craters occupy the roads
Like Venus, Moon and Mars
There, to be explored, or to avoid, if so inclined
Sober souls are also occupied
The challenge to survive is cumbersome
A friendly reminder of where you are
Ending in a ditch or off a cliff
You might miss a pot hole here and there
They come on subtle like a kiss
Sooner or later they will find you in the dark
And rock you like the craters that they are
Far from home in Costa Rica
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015
Favorite Painter Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
John James Audubon
Born in France, loved American birds
ornithologist by nature
hawks, sparrows and bald eagles
sailed high seas for research
broke and penniless
published a book
My talents of painting have always
been based on passion for eagles
to see the love he portrays
is a beautiful thing
beneath the starlit
skies I see proof
~Date Written: November 29, 2015~
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2015
I smile as it seems to be,
The wind came to play with me.
For i lay in bed,
Ill for what seems like forever.
I cannot move or dance myself,
So the wind and my dreams dance together.
I watch as the humming birds made of lace,
come alive before my eyes.
I love to watch the sweet caress,
Of the lacy blinds against the open glass.
I love to watch as my dreams take me,
Dancing me out my small window
To the open land and tall trees,
To the light in the skies,
And the smell of the seas.
I laugh as i slip away into my dreams,
Now i can dance for myself.
Copyright © Arianna Ingham | Year Posted 2012
Once I Sought But Love Ran Away
I sought peace by way of knowledge
the well was full but the peace it did so hide
I ran races after peaceful horses but
the saddles fell of and trampled was my heart
I sought love by way of exciting sex with
beautiful vixens but satisfied I found love hiding
I ran after soft girls with hard sexy bodies only
to find sex great but true joy O' so elusive
A journey lead me into a wild life looking for
clues to peace and love. I found great pleasure
no real gain. I sat for years begging for an answer
when suddenly a little bird told me-
Stop, you are trying to force it!
Love flees from force. Settle down, look around
and you will see Love seeking you out! A great
truth hit me like a ton bricks. I obeyed that
little voice and now married ten years to the
Love that searched me out!
Hallejah and I praise her with a Shout!!!!!
Stop, open your heart, look and listen.
That same little bird just may speak to you!
Robert Lindley. 08-13-2014
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
The surroundings were much simpler
people were more nice
i used to sleep thrice
and did not eat more than twice plus twice
The phase of growth begins
Spirit to do something pins
The innocence is still lingering inside
But it comes out rare and for a while
out of hope i made some good friends
fell in love with a girl like fashion trends
only one sided though very true
but the messing up grew
i was never sincere about what i shared
it was something like a vehicle gear
the speed though was straight
and tried to not get late
Copyright © anurag bansal | Year Posted 2016
Birds don't know our Puzzles
For us they are a Mystery
Large, kindhearted birds
in the tree of Sapience
do not tremble against time
or momentary dangers--
endless examinations await them
Outside the doors
Some birds pray in silence, wholeheartedly
Awake, without a hurry they are
white & colorful birds in the tree, against wind
resting quietly, contemporaneously
We are feeding alternative birds, unfortunately:
the dirty ones, afflicted
by outrage... and sadness too
We try to imprison them in cages
Why oh why there are myriads of them...
damn, please, do something, for God’s sake!
Tell me, where to find the Sky?
Who will open doors to forest,
who will show exit to fields...
Where Tree is growing and Birds sit in it...
One who opens the door can give and the Wings
at least one small bird of Negativity
you would become one of them! Don’t kill -
but do not feed also…
People who keep white & colorful feathered friends
also aren't safe from the tree with deadly dangerous
red & black birds – Ignorance… Lust… Evil…
Large birds will not visit our home - we will have to leave it
and enter the forest maze
Will we go to the tree of Sapience? There kindhearted birds are waiting
Originaly wrote in Russian,,, fully added at http://www.stihi.ru/2016/04/25/152
Pticy ne znajut nashix zagadok, oni sami jest tajna dla nas
Bolshie i dobrie pticy na dereve Mudrosti ne bojatsya vremeni
vremennix opasnostej tozhe
ix zhdut beskonechnie ispitanie
nekatorye pticy v tishine, serdcami, povtariajut molitvu
Oni ne spiat i nikuda nespishat…
Belyye i mnogocvetnye pticy---- na dereve, na protiv vetra
otdyxajut odnovremenno i tyxo posle puteshestvie...
A my v eto vremia
kormim drugix ptic
k sozheleniu: griaznix, gnevnix, neshchiasnix
i starajemsia zakrivat' v kletkax
Ax, pochemu, pochemu, pochemu…
ix tak mnogo? Prokliatyje! Zdelaj chto nibut' - radi Boga!
Skazhi mne, gde naiti
Kto otkroet dveri v lesu, kto pakazhet vixod na pole?
Pole s derevom i pticami! Kto otkroet dveri, tot dast
Jesli ubjosh xot odnu iz malenkix ptichek Negativnosti
stanesh odnoj iz nix - nelzia ix ubivat - no i kormit ne nuzhno!
Oni ne poimut tebe, jesli zaxochesh
Bolshie pticy ne priletiat k nam domoj
Nam budet nuzhno ostavit dom, projti lesnoj labirint
A ty poidiosh so mnoj k derevu Mudrosti? Tam, gde dobrie pticy zhdut...?
Copyright © salamandra Gabija | Year Posted 2016
Perhaps a seed was dropped by a bird
Or by a gust of wind on a place full of dirt
That was long ago and all had forgotten
But the seed knew it would tear apart
First its own hard shell then the stone
And see the world when it sprouts out;
Passionately it was waiting for a season
When the days would bring drops of rain
And a wild breeze blow from the south
A pack of rays fall on its chest from the sun
The day came after long wait and it felt
A shake, a jerk and energy in severe pain
As if , someone was calling and asked in guilt
Wake up wonder baby , now it is your turn
Spit up all that may be soil, pebble or stone
Gone are the harsh days and the drought
Opportunity is at hand, be a lovely sprout;
First only two leaves it forcefully flung
Then third one, next the forth and so on
In no time it became a beautiful infant
In the morning the dew that fell upon
Helped it further to be full grown plant.
New shoots and buds began to appear
With petals long and strong it wore
The sweet fragrance and drank color
Felt an urge and bloomed into a flower.
Copyright © wahab wahab | Year Posted 2016
I like to be a swallow to fly everywhere,
To learn about patience and all about care.
He flies to new places; he meets new mates.
He breaks all boundaries; he enters all gates.
He loves all colors; loves them all the same,
Just like us humans; we each have a name.
He also loves flowers; loves them all the same,
Just like us humans; we each have an aim.
For things around us they all have a goal.
No one is an island; no one is an all.
I like to be a swallow to have no fixed home.
The sky he takes to remains his lovely home.
Copyright © Omar Jabak | Year Posted 2016
Very Welcome Neighbors II
The Reticulated Woodpecker mates, made it through the winter……
…..offspring, one of each gender arrive with fanfare!
About one quarter the size of each parent, of course the female is the smaller bird…..Ohh, the splendor of the male sibling born with a complete fiery red-
A set of a mini-mom and dad complete. Their parents hangout with them for weeks y
While they learn to f
And become self- sufficient.
The cozy nest they pecked open wide and filled with natures comforts the parents had prepared in the Winter atop a dying palm.
The lovely carved out safe-haven survived through the Spring…..compelled by instinct, the two Adult love-peckers go their own way…
…leaving their children behind in a familiar Patch of the woods with their home. p
The siblings have yet to stray too far. Gazing at the female as she searches A
what is left of the dead palm after the nest segment fell to the
off from all the soaking rains…
palm now three quarters of its original height and rimmed with a rigid new opening.
I have my eyes on you two!
Copyright © jill spagnola | Year Posted 2016