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Seasons Bird Poems | Bird Poems About Seasons

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

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Details | Triolet |

Up in the Autumn Air

Up in the autumn air, I swoop and glide - a sleek black bird with tail feathers tipped white. Bright leaves on wind beneath me gaily ride up in the autumn air! I swoop and glide on freedom’s wings, and beauty magnified surrounds me radiantly on my flight. Up in the autumn air, I swoop and glide - a sleek black bird with tail feathers tipped white. An orange leaf tinged yellow-gold am I - twirled happily up in the autumn air with comrade leaves. I dance beneath blue sky. Above - a sleek black white-tailed bird glides by! Below me, all the earth is bright and fair. An orange leaf tinged yellow-gold am I - twirled happily up in the autumn air. (Triolet using iambic pentameter, instead of 8-syllable lines) Written Oct. 19, 2012 by Andrea Dietrich For Russell Sivey's Up in the Autumn Air Poetry Contest


Details | Narrative |

THANKSGIVING TURKEY

They organized a church bazaar,
To raise money for the poor.
A booth for selling chances
Was set up, outside the door.

When I bought the raffle ticket, 
My reasoning was murky,
And I could only just believe it,
When I won that doggone turkey.

Now, the kids were all excited
When we brought the critter home.
So we placed him in the barnyard, 
Where he'd have lots of room to roam.

Since the date was late October,
I'm quite sure you understand,
That to have him for Thanksgiving
Was my awe inspiring plan.

Well, the turkey was no birdbrain,
As I was very soon to find.
That bird knew what I was thinking;
Why, I declare, he read my mind. 

I let the children care for him,
To my most profound regret--
He turned on his charming manner,
And, quickly, he became their pet.

But that fact did not deter me,
I told myself it didn't matter.
I was dead set and determined
To see that gobbler on a platter.

When the kids perceived my purpose,
They turned on the tears and pleas.
Then, the wife joined in their chorus,
And that brought me to my knees.

So I told my grieving family
They could dry up, and relax.
I concealed my disappointment--
Went and put away the axe.

Came the dinner of Thanksgiving,
Not a sad face could be found.
And our live Thanksgiving turkey
Was the gladdest bird around. 

We gathered around the table,
And I humbly asked the blessing--
While Tom gobbled down his corn, outside,
We had hotdogs and dressing. 


Details | Verse |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB


Details | Rhyme |

AVIAN TWEETS



A robin perches on a bough While crimson drapes are drawn with night, The season’s hours come, to allow First call of springtime’s pure delight. Petals awake from winter’s grim; Alive with buds yearning to brim. There is a softness in mid- air Birds have rhapsodies to share, Nocturnal shaded woodlands calm Release their scented dew-laced balm To gentle hour that's sure to bring; The wispy glide of tails winging. charmed by feathered treat twitters fade in morn... the birthing of groves replete! Sheri Fresonke Harper's Three Stanza Suite Quatrain, couplet, haiku by nette onclaud


Details | Haiku |

They Are Back

red shining nectar
the hovering hummingbirds
woman sweeps the porch

©Donna Jones


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 | I do not know? |

Springs Arrival

The calming sounds of birds chirping fills the air, The smell of flowers just beginning to bloom, The sight of the green coming back to the grasses life, The feeling of being engulfed by a blanket of sun, Spring has arrived. The sound of lackluster lawn mowers starting back up, The smell of fresh food being grilled on the patio, The sight of sun rays beaming through the sky, The feeling of riding around with your windows down, Spring has arrived. The sound of wood crackling in a toasty bonfire, The pleasant smell of freshly cut grass, The sight of waves crashing along the shoreline, The feeling of having a slight breeze on a nice day, Spring has arrived. The sound of children back playing outside, The smell of fresh rain caked to the air after a storm, The sight of birds darting through the crisp air, The feeling of cold lake water touching your feet, That's when you can tell, Spring has arrived.


Details | Ballade |

Australia day

Australia day


Its three PM Australia day
The day’s as hot as Hell
The budgies chirp delightfully
There’s a ringing like a bell
As the breeze kisses the wind chimes
And that sky, electric blue
It sends those sun beams crashing down
It’s damned hot! I tell you.

The world is wilting, woefully
Some plants look fit to die
That burning ball of energy
Above there in the sky
It tells the world “I’m here, I’m here!!”
As it flames with heavens power
And on the Rose shrubs in the yard
There just be dried up flowers.

It’s summer time, down under
One hundred plus degrees
I’m drinking beer and waiting, here
To feel that cooling breeze
That comes here after noon is done
To give the heat some ease
Then just a few short hours from now
The dusk might bring release




 


Details | Rhyme |

Nature's Single Dads - The Australian Emu

Nature’s Single Dad:
The Australian Emu :
The first 55 days

Emund is busy
preparing his
dance-floor for
partners who’ll put
him to the test. 
His pedigree line
has proven with time

that it is now his
turn, to be best.
He hears them emerge
from the bush as
they gather in
answer to nature’s
call.
They dance, and then
go away, they know
they cannot stay; 
there is not enough
food for them all. 

They dip and they
weave as they mingle
together knowing
that each has a
chance 
With his reputation,
there is no
hesitation; 
he is ready to join
in the dance.
‘Bonk! Bonk,’ comes
the sound of another
arrival, ‘It’s
Emulena!’ he says
with a grin. 
Others move to the
side as he leaves
them mid-stride 
to greet this dancer
as she flounces in.

With sensuous,
rhythmic movement of
hips she fluffs up
her boa, it bounces
in time. 
He matches her mood.
His movements are
smooth 
as they twist and
twirl in their
dancing mime.
He does not fuss
about who takes the
lead, he follows and
their dance now is
ending. 
With steps that are
light he glides to
the right, 	
he meets her, bows
deeply, head
bending.
 	
Emulena says,
“Sorry, we cannot
stay longer, we all
must find paddocks
anew.
It matters not
whether we all stay
together,
we trust you to know
what to do.”
As she speaks, they
deposit their gifts,
and he hears, as in
chorus they say,
“We know you’ll do
magically, what you
do naturally 
to deliver these in
your own way.”

After completing her
task, Emulena stands
tall and she fluffs
up her feathers once
more.
They follow her lead
in twos, and in
threes, 
and promenade across
the dance floor.
Left all alone, he
goes back to his
duties and looks
closely at each pale
green shell.
He checks all for
defects. He sees
they are perfect, 
so with care he
covers every one
well.

He sticks to his
task for fifty-five
days in sunshine,
strong winds and
some showers.
He values each
treasure and tends
them with pleasure 
as he, turns each
egg every three
hours.
Through his long
lashes he sees
danger coming. He
drops his neck down
like a log.
Feathers flying on
high and red fur
prowls near-by; 
he needs to fool
both bird and dog.

The shells have now
turned a dark bluey
green, there’s an
infertile egg in the
batch. 
This egg will be
food for his hungry
brood; 
but he won’t eat or
drink, ‘til they
hatch.
Each day he looks
up, and turns his
head to the sun as
it rises each
morning.
He’ll sit day and
night until the
time’s right.
He knows, that time
comes without
warning.

to be continued...


Details | Rhyme |

A Season's Dance

Bare,
Yet fair,
None can compare.
To the nude silver branches and barren expanses,
That the cool of winter doth bring.
Unless you equate the way the birds sing,
In the start of the fresh, blooming spring.
Or perhaps the warm air,
Filled with crickets’ prayer,
That’s found only in the summer’s afternoon glare.
But then there is the time of the harvest,
With leaves like the paint on the  palette of an artist.
Such tender, splendor indeed, in each season is found,
For in Nature, beauty truly doth rise and abound.

Shawnee Doling-Tye 10/6/13


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