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Bird Winter Poems | Bird Poems About Winter

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

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Details | Quatrain | |

A Walk in the Snow

Far from the town and its bustling throng knowing just where to go, Sister and I are walking along a pathway in the snow. Down by the lake and over a fence are hungry ducks and geese. To their clamor we give audience, watching their flock increase. Off comes my muff, for I have brought what they love to be fed. I hold out my hand then as I squat to toss them crumbs of bread. Those ducklings and geese can’t get enough, but new snow fills the sky. My frozen hand goes back in my muff, for no more crumbs have I! For the Let it Snow Contest Based on the first picture: George Dunlop Leslie's Winter Walk

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

Details | Monoku | |

flakes dance



flakes dance on glassy shore as jays perch low…  trilling heart-frozen cries



In one line (monoku #9) Contest, PD
3/15/2016

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

Winter Prints

Kentucky winter cardinals dancing across white blanket of snow +++++++++++++++++++++++++ Written 2-17-2016

Copyright © Susan Gentry | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Wolf And Owl Take Shape

            Wolf And Owl Take Shape

Smoke and red cinders rise together in retrograde simplicity
On counter rotation, winds sing through birch and oak 
Marbled moon remains sour yellow through the ecliptic edge
Cryptic night, where owl and wolf find warmth and cover
Nestled in the coarse blanket warn by Tabitha, the young one 
Her tribe sleeps through winter
She holds them in her mystic spell, mild heart and smile
They breathe cold mist together in history hallows
Unfolding cold reveals their open eyes
Reaching out into the distance as wolf howls
Unknown mysteries of life feel their kinship
Heaven opens up to them crisp on the fire light   
Wolf moves his wool but only slightly in a twitch
Owl takes flight, returns alarmed
Back to the blanket and young girls arms
It rests with comfort feathers by her heart
Wolf and owl take shape, Tabitha smiles
They all take one long last breath and hold it in
Wait till spring to release it again below the mystic stars


10/17/14 Free Verse, Prose Poetry, haibun – Poetry Contest

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |

Linda Marie Bariana

Linda-marie the sweetheart of PS
Sweetheart, a compound noun made of two nouns
Used with a difference, I found some synonyms
The qualities that give joy to senses-BEAUTY
The qualities that knocks you out-KNOCK-OUT

Drinks are scarcely my DISH
My neighbor is quite a LOOKER
My girl friend is a hell of LULU 
Helen of Troy was a SMASHER.

Cleopatra, at an early age, was a MANTRAP.
Ophelia of Hamlet was STEADY
Julia Roberts is quite a SWEETIE.
Ron’s favored person TRUELOVE .

She is classy gentle soup woman to me,
To be diabetic, don’t be too sweetie.

Dr. Ram Mehta
===============================
Fourth place win in
Contest : Sweetheart of PS





Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

THE SNOW BIRD OF PARADISE

Bursting from within the heart of a blizzard shock wave,
Shutters the flexing eye of this white hurricane storm,
Shattering the inner core into a blazing shards torrent,
A miracle of utter mystical enchantment occurs,
In this ancient incantations sacred spell.
It is a crystallized super nova’s raw force, exploding from
The inner guttural roar of nature giving birth, to
The snow bird of paradise.
In its translucent chamber egg of ice, resting in the
Diamond dust covered nest, lined with crystal frozen gems,
Shimmering beneath the chilling Artic sun, as the
Freezing embrace of mother earth, rocks her starling,
Kindred off spring, waiting, are anticipating its hatching.
Ever tenderly the life within stirs, as if a captured moment
Of purities grace, encapsulated in brilliance opulence,
The shells shard melts away, in a hushed display of beauties
Refinement and complete elegance.
Nature itself seems to hold its very breath, as the
Snow bird rises, for the first motions step, in a swaying
Waltz of harmony.
Behold the snow bird strides forth, fanning her plumage
Behind, a white laced peacock is exposed, unfolding its winged
Feathers delicately, one by one, until the colors
Reflect the light rays from the polar sun.
Gleaming in radiance, the fineries majestic appendages
Sparkle with razzle-dazzles adornments, yet the winds brush
At her downy softness, as if caressing the fleece of a new
Born lamb’s wool, ever so gently.
Plumages lace of snowflakes spread wide, in a splendors display
Of glitz and glamour, as the fluffy strains ripple in the night winds
Whispering, come along my beautiful creation, it is time to warm
My soil with springs everlasting promise, once more.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN






Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

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

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

February Winds

Sunday morning
time for sabbath sacraments.

He steps into gusty wind,
some fat splatter sweeps of raindrops,
fall across his porch roof
on down through roaring river valley,
forceful push, then ebb,
February wind storm with rain,
a wondrous primal pair
he adores.

Neighbor birds start liturgical dance
and ritual songs of regeneration
without him.
Already flying quick floating dives
into drama time,
singing back to Brother Wind
howling on his way.

Calling, chanting cantors, conjoin
swelling sacred anti-gravity songs
co-arise blissful sweeping sound,
karmic atmosphere swirls time-rich
sacred rites across his house-bound skin.

Sound of incense sweeps down his river,
north to south with warmer hopes and economic intentions,
remind him time for political baptism.

She incants from the bathtub
in short gusts of warm blast enculturation,
joining his internal gospel choir,
chirps her oppositional descant
challenging and prophesying and occupying
in full-voiced roar of need
as want
right now,
and seldom bothers a please,
much less a thanks
for caring as best he can
to hear her appositional rhythms and patterns,
irritating flows of hard-blown breath
with attitude.

Storm and brew
birds cheer rage in her brain
shouting at co-arising gravity
to blow another way
within her exegetical universe,
her way,
the only way
she can imagine
to function in a reverse and upside down
political world of unheard powerlessness
when inside
she can only find her loud-voiced demands
to turn life around,
spin this slippery wind of Earth
to blow in her right liturgical way.

Baptism completes this wind drenched requiem
of full-life as anti-death survival
to cooperate this week's regenerate vocational intent
and ecopolitical practice.

She joins her dad
for one last look
through jaundiced eye
at drenching rain that could fly back
from whence it came
if only wiser timed to start this day.

Birds now pray their benedictions
quietly in wind-protected nests
while he listens to swollen postlude protest
against eco-agitating time,
uprooting old gnarled systems
decayed for newer holistic use
as compost fades into swaying trees
flown back to join upriver's grace of windblown time,
and forth to rejoin downstream's centerous roots
through winter purging Earth
decomposing dance.

He closes his door to time's external grace
to watch a smile warmly cross her chronic face
like a gust of refreshing wind
through a rainy karmic life.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

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.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014

Details | Crystalline | |

Frozen in Crystalline 4



Nightingale's song fades in dawn's light Crisp Winter shadows dance with delight

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2014

Details | Terzanelle | |

Winter Sparrows

Outside my window I heard a chirping, And on a tree was one little sparrow; This bird had not a care for snow falling. Often many perch on a branch narrow, I find their nests in walls and in vines; And on a tree was one little sparrow. Even in light fixtures I find signs, So closely entwined in my daily life; I find their nests in walls and in vines. These sparrows enjoy a city birdlife, I love to watch them have a snow bath; So closely entwined in my daily life. They hop, hop on my icy garden path, Sparrows will eat right out of my hand; I love to watch them have a snow bath. I find this little bird so delightfully grand, Outside my window I heard a chirping; Sparrows will eat right out of my hand. This bird has not a care for snow falling ________________________ November 28, 2015 Terzanelle For the contest, Open Poetry, Sponsor, Charlotte Jade Puddifoot Fifth Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse | |

A Skylark Christmas

At last,
winter has come
tonight

Nightlights
are woven in 
the sky

Skylarks
have flocked to
their nests.

Nestled,
they take rest in 
the trees

Treetops
shelter them from
the chill

Chilled air
rocks them to sleep
again

Against
north wind, comes a 
new snow

Snowflakes
fall gently, on
their dreams

Dreamland
waits for them at
first  light 

Lighter,
are all hearts on
Christmas


______________________________________________________
For the "Mussetle Train Contest:"
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
12/14/14

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

Empty Feeders

The feeders were empty, dejected, forlorn.
The lady who filled them had suddenly gone.
Her time here now ended, she wakened no more:
Gone from her gardens, departed her door.
 
This little much mattered to birds on the wing,
With winter now over, well into the spring.
All busy with nesting, caught up in new life.
No hunger in summer, no cold, bitter strife.
 
New homes to be built: sturdy and staid.
Songs to be sung and eggs to be laid.
Sheltered and nurtured; the young ones appear.
A sure rite of passage in the spring of each year.
 
Fledglings near grown will be taught how to fly
And soar past the tree tops up into the sky.
They will learn of the hawk and its hunger for flesh:
Of wicked, sly felines that hide in the brush.
 
Then late summer grows weary and tired of play. 
It goes to bed earlier and earlier each day.
The fall time all golden and valued the more;
Birds sense coming peril past winter’s cold door.
 
Those who remain for new season’s sharp sting,
Grow restless, uneasy, not choosing to sing.
Old feeders hang empty, no seed to be found . . 
Below only barren, forbidding, cold ground.
 
Blue jays and the doves, all the species of finch,
Chickadees, titmice, now feel winter's pinch.
Woodpeckers, nuthatches, cardinals and crows,
Will all group together to face winter woes.
 
Then a morning arrives with white flakes in the air.
Frigid and stark; the day reeks of despair.
First jay to arrive at the earliest light,
Gives out a sharp cry to all others in flight.
 
There's someone out tending the feeders below,
Tamping the snow where the cracked corn will go.
And filling the hollow in that old rotten stump:
Sunflower, suet, dried fruit and some nuts.
 
Bleak landscape has kidnapped the scene down below,
But all’s right in the hemlock, as well as the snow.
New feeders abound, where old feeders once hung 
And with someone to fill them, let the new winter come.

Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015

Details | Personification | |

Aurora And Avalanche

                                                Aurora And Avalanche

                                              Heavenly blue night sky
                                         Studded glittering bright stars   
 
                                  We linger for the illustrious attraction  

                           Shimmering lights arc throughout the nighttime sky  
                                   Water mirrors its colorful, brilliant dance

                                                 We sit and admire   
                                             On our favorite rock bluff  
                                   Surrounded by seductive fluffy white snow 
                                 Sweet moments of kisses and holding hands 
                                              Between two love birds 

                                          At a distance we hear the echo 
                                   Rapid snow flows down a mountain slope

                                           Our dark and white plumage
                                         Shimmers of the brilliant colors
                                            With the shimmering lights
© 3/4/2015

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

White Water

white water lapping

'gainst a garden with deep frost

starling glimpses me.

Copyright © Julia Ward | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain | |

The Migration

A peculiar sight at the river mouth, A flock of birds flying to the south, It kind of caught me way off guard, As I headed to work in my car. A thick white frost adorned the grass, As my fowl friends flew on past, I wandered if they planned to nest, Muttering thoughts upon frosty breath. We continued toward the ice blue sky, 'Till I noticed out of the corner of my eye, Bulging storm clouds behind the hills, With more toward the sea further still. My feathered friends proved quite wise. Settling for freezing cold but dry, With a howling storm in their backs, You're better off worse than being in that. (C) 2016 PJ Bayliss

Copyright © PJ Bayliss | Year Posted 2016

Details | Acrostic | |

February


Falling snowflakes like delicate lace, and
Every tree is draped in pure white
Beyond my window pane . . .
Relentlessly drop these gifts from God
Utterly beautiful this time of year . . .
And the wind wails like violins, with the
Rhapsody of chirping birds
Yellow, in a snow covered tree

_______________________
August 8, 2015

Acrostic 

My birthday - February 1

For the contest,  Birthday Month Acrostic
Sponsor, Charlotte Puddifoot 

Third Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

Haiku: The Bird In The Winter

A bird in winter
With blanket of its feathers
Venturing nature

Copyright © Jyoti Sonnet | Year Posted 2008

Details | Rhyme | |

Winter Bird

Lovely winter bird 
Perched so high 
Sing a song 
For you and I 

Such breathtaking music 
Filling the air 
How could I ignore 
This song you share 

Each and everyday 
I come to listen 
Your voice to me 
Has become my addiction 

Even the cold wind 
Could not make me go 
I wouldn't want to miss 
This gift you have bestowed 

Again I will come 
To see you tomorrow 
To hear your joyous song 
That melts away my sorrows

Copyright © Jamie Rua | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain | |

The Soft Feel Of Snowflakes

In winter I miss the soft feel of snowflakes,
not the frosted and leaf-covered meadows;   
and while green jays listen to the ravens' crow,
the angry wind whips trees with its hard blow! 

I feel sympathy for the lonely woodpeckers;
in winter I miss the feel of soft snowflakes...
how frightened is the tiny shivering lizard
that tries to shield himself from the cold!

The red-tailed blackbirds aren't too happy,
they soar into a sky so empty and gloomy;
in winter I miss the soft feel of snowflakes...
more than the smell of roasted chestnuts!  

I like to see snow fall, giggling under a hat;   
if none falls, think how depressed I will get!
Come snow, I am ready to get my kicks!   
In winter I miss the soft feel of snowflakes!








Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Details | Tanka | |

in the chilly morn

 
. . . there is a chirping in the leafless frozen woods I hold out my hand and cold icy feathers land there is both a fear and awe ____________________ March 18, 2015 Tanka For the contest, Tanka 2, sponsor, Andrea Dietrich 6th Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

Homo Sapiens

"I stabbed a faggot 
in the knees", he whispered.

I wanted him
for bait

To catch some
bigger faggots,
from a pile of

Growing stubble heads
and high-heeled masculinity

They twist,
so I unhook them
to sea [see].

Copyright © Ammy Avocet | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

haiku 5: changing seasons

     haiku 5: changing seasons

winter takes a rest---
spring now ushers in the day...
birds tweet and build nests.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Set a Drift a Snow Bliss

SET A DRIFT                                                                                                                                        
                                                             By: Kitty Jones  
                                                              11-19-13
Set adrift a snow bliss wounded and laying on the ground
An extreme love so painful, yet beautiful to be found.
Torn and broken I’m masterfully slain
my heart and emotions are in sensuous pain.
The touch of your hand upon my cheek burns me to my soul
Holding me with a master’s touch, your heart is never cold.
Painfully beautiful setting a bliss.
I’m lost in array within your kiss.
Kissing me with the tips of your lips and having your way with me
Turning me lose letting me go but never setting me free.
Set adrift a snow bliss wounded and laying on the ground
Searching for the pieces you’ve scattered all around 
Shattered moments of ecstasy lost and gone forever
Never knowing where they went or if they’ll come back ever.
Leaving me here to die on my own every time you escape
Is it lust that brought us together or was it really fate.
I love your washboard stomach and your sweet masculine thighs.
I am looking at your body but I’m totally lost in your eyes
Set adrift a snow bliss wounded and laying on the ground
I’m searching for all the pieces that you’ve scattered all around.
My memory bliss is telling me I’ll never be your wife
Although it’s very painful I want to be part of your life.
My memory bliss of touching you is driving me insane.
My memory bliss of kissing you while dancing in the rain
In my heart I know there’s someone else that you are holding near.
For when you wrap your arms around me I can tell you have some fear 
My body thrives to be with you, it throbs at just your scent.
Knowing I can never keep you the pain grows beyond intense.
Set adrift a snow bliss wounded and laying on the ground
I’m searching for all the pieces that you’ve scattered all around.
Set adrift a snow bliss inhaling you like a do
I wonder if that’s how she felt the day you said “I do”.
The moments together we’ve shared in life 
I wonder have you done the same with your wife ?
There doesn’t seem to be enough time to diminish my pain for you.  
It’s a miracle I’ve survived the loved you’ve put me through  
Set adrift a snow bliss wounded and laying on the ground
I’m searching for all the pieces that you’ve scattered all around.

Copyright © kitty jones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Winter's Silent Beauty

Alone I sit
staring at the cold grey sky
All around
winter's handiwork
so silent
so beautiful 
fills the land

Drifting lazily upwards
pillars of smoke
rise ghost-like 
from the chimneys
On the ground below
the freshly fallen snow 
so quiet, so fragile
instils deep peace 
within my soul

Standing alone in the distance
a church steeple 
points majestically towards the sky
in silent testimony
of its God

Nothing stirs -
the sparrows have gone to bed
this cold winter's evening
dreaming pleasant dreams 
of tomorrow's spring
when new life will take form
in Nature's world
or perhaps they dream 
of yesterday's summer
when they flitted happily
from tree to tree
dancing in the sunshine
so happy to be alive 
and free

Yet, dream on 
my little friends
for even while you dream
cold winter must reign 
a little while longer
still blessing the earth 
with her deep silent beauty
--- as now the snow begins to fall
once more

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Winter Has left, Spring Has arrived

Winter has left, spring has arrived;
day has the same duration of night,
this astronomical event is too unique:
earth orbiting sun is utterly mystique.
a change of season is announced;
swallows engage in acrobatic flight!

Winter was only a bale of unhappy memories, 
melting snow creates brooks that quickly flow;
look up, shrilling eagles and pretels fly so low...
how glad they are to return to their old nests!

Winter has left, spring has arrived; the lovebird's
happy song has been reawaken, and heard again
in the rustling trees and in the frantic, warm winds 
that scatter white clouds across the brilliant Heaven!

Spring has lovely sunsets, the ones that thrill the senses;   
sit down and contemplate them a while with true revere.
This vernal season has beauty and is a delight to the eyes;
watch the Equinox slowly illuminate the above Hemisphere! 


Written on 3/29/2016
 
  





Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

Blue Jay Chill

       Blue Jay Chill


Snow covers blue jay 

Swallow winters up, ice forms 
 
Both merge, beneath, cold

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

Chickadee Tag -Haiku-

Weave between branches they're playing a game of tag one by one, they're it. Copyright © Cynthia Jones Dec.12/2013 I was watching the chickadees outside a few days ago. This is what I had come up with.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Long Winter grass

The academy of long winter grass,
an education in the backyard.
I always thought I was better
than the sparrows,
thought nothing
of that black cat
looking for his lucky break
on our porch,
the neighbors’ bastard dog
at the fence playing puppy.
One day our cousins visited us,
all dressed up in percale linen
and sailor suits,
little wealthy angels
gleaming in the sun.
“ Careful for the grass. It is wet,”
I said to them.
My uncle ordered fish and chips.
The cousins fed
the old changer cat
some of their fish,
the dog got some chips
and the sparrows the last crumbs
of Portuguese buns.
How long I lived on liverwurst
and happy bread,
how these stray animals
shared in a take away luxury.
I was no different from them.
I have been instructed on poverty.

Copyright © Martin Lochner | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

Winter

A black dove
migrates North
when the first snowflake falls.

Copyright © Erin C.C. | Year Posted 2015