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Bird Work Poems | Bird Poems About Work

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

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Details | Free verse | |

A Mother's Job

She built her nest of straw and mud,
anchored to the rocks on our entryway.
Through the glass in the front door,
we watched her as she sat up there

on her eggs, allowing babies to grow.
After they hatched, she hovered close,
quarreling at us for coming too near.
She sat motionless on the nest at night,

covering them for hours with her body,
warming with the spread of her wings.
I think she liked that nesting part best;
daylight brought endless hours of work,

bringing worms for wide, hungry mouths 
and guarding nearby to keep danger at bay.
Then came the task of teaching them to fly;
an enormous effort for such a tiny mother.

We watched them grow too big for the nest,
crowding so their feathery butts hung over
the edge, their droppings cascading down
over the rocks, onto the porch below.

One morning's surprise brought a view
of an empty nest; the babies had flown.
Mother bird returned to begin once more.*
Amazed to see her back on the nest,

we opened the bird book to find her,
this Eastern Phoebe, who has found
home in Missouri, returning each year 
to grace our mornings with sweet calls.

*Note: Our task was to suffer the obstacle course of a ladder, extension 
cord, and a continuous fan on the front porch to keep baby birds from
smothering in the heat, plus scrubbing the crud off the porch floor. The 
first two broods were okay, but, in July, the third try was a killer.


Details | Rhyme | |

GRIND

My morning coffee on the deck
A pure solace before breakneck
Birds sweetly singing!

My office desk a paper wreck
Everyday grind I've come to expect
Phone always ringing :(

3-2-14

Sponsor: Black Eyed Susan
Contest: The Blues - in tail rhyme 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Early Morning Bird

He is always awake before dawn
At four of five in the morn
For what is there to gain in long sleep
Except into pain and poverty leap?

And before all, he gives forth a worthy praise
To his Creator and Giver of days
For not to worship he knows not why
Whether times are low or tides are high.

And with the prospect of rising rays
He begins to plan where to walk his ways
How to work his job a darling deal
And make his day a perfect seal.

And there he is, in the forest and field
To walk, to work and to wield
To play his ploy a trap to form
So he may catch the wonderful worm.

And there he is, serious and set
Hoping to win his bounteous bet
Though he may not go with a greatest grain
He is always there tomorrow to try again.

He calls his helper who sometimes helps
Carry meal for children for they don’t serve selves
They eat and thank God, and then rejoice
And share in love and warmth of their days.

And back home he gets always before dusk
For what is there to see in darkness, if he may ask?
That is that, of the early morning bird
He finds food for wife and child, and gives them good guard.


 


Details | Senryu | |

Early Bird

wake early each day

opportunity awaits 

slumber gets nothing.....


Details | I do not know? | |

Albino Hawk

Above a crimson sun-raise.
Albino Hawk can soon fly.
He spots its prey, from miles away.
I'd dare say.
His swooping,swift, and sudden,
Entrance is frightening.
We squint with inferior eyes.
Upwards towards brilliant sky.
Grasping His awesome feats.
So enlightening.
I'd dare say! Dumbfounded!
His weakness builds His strengths,
Compounded!
I'd dare ask.
If this progression lasts,
Will some day Hawk-eye, overcome us?
Somewhere  from the third row.
Sits Darwin's eyes aglow.
Saying, "I told you so."
Just God Who says , "Not So."
And Id' dare ask.
"Does Hawk-eye own a soul? 
You should very well know.
The nature of His game.
His assent more mundane.
We should very well say.
If truth we could grasp.
Just ask.


Details | Senryu | |

Man Tries To Draw Bird

Man tries to draw bird
Birds true essence eludes him
He still dares to try.


(January 10, 2011  Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Dream Of A Caged Bird


I want to erase this present tense of disgrace
in my life and quietly sway like a night bloom, 
waiting for great Northern stars and the moon
to satiate my spark less eyes and to embrace

Me with their warmest winks. You see, I dream
of morn seagulls, scattered like Autumn leaves 
and wish to share them a breath that still lives
and my imaginative thoughts, sitting on cream 

Summer dawn with a bottle of pungent aroma
for a companion. Let me, please, be me! Erase, 
erase in my life the present tense of disgrace;
let my dream dreams, free from your enigma!


Details | I do not know? | |

GOOD MORNING TO YOU BIRD

Have u ever really stoped and pay attention to the birds in the morning
have you listened to their praises,their praises of  joy thats its a new day,
they fly like its the first flight do u watch them

Can you feel the joy they feel have you ever tried to feel it,do you see the 
aerobatics being performed by them, its a show not even fine gold can buy 
when they perform in the sky

Flying frenzy is the acts they perform  whilisting so sweet telling you its time to get 
on your feet do you listen to them

As we have jobs to do and to perform they have as well letting us know the time 
is dawn.


Details | Free verse | |

Penguin Poet

 Penguin Poet 
Penguin Poet 
 
The Batman was standing to the side of the bumbershooter looking askance at 
the penguins' aide so intent was the man in the plastic wrapper that he failed to 
see Robin coming up behind them and lost his nanner in a Robin manner he 
was soon tied up like a handcuff furrowing into the background noises of the 
Penguin lair the hair of the penguin was slick jetted black ebon nighttime fright 
and he launched a bird kick almost getting Batman in the jaw Robin came 
unglued and he is rally very strong he launched another bird kick in the belly of 
the thug. 
 
 WHAM Whack Thwack POW SOCK WHAM the fight was soon over and the 
Penguin land in jail. 
 



Details | Verse | |

Pokeweed Waits

Pokeweed waits
underground, snow crusts
small greenish white flowers, leaves entire
and alternate, black berries
poisonous, ripe late.

Waits patiently past February
when the sun stays up in the sky more than January
and six more months after that
past the peepers keeping watch
for every passing dog or truck.

We await our time
or have had it, or are having it.
Body in slow, not precipitous, decline.
Expend ourselves on work and wine.
Percent of budget expended, year to date.

I heard a redwing this morning
who might have been choosing a nest site
holding the spot against chevrons from the south.
Choosing the best site, away from predators, near water, 
in sight of seed and buds.

It happens that when the pokeweed fruit pokes out
the chicks were born, the fledglings flown
leaves already leathery
and the weather has the faintest
hint of January's cold snow hold.