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Best Bird Poems

Below are the all-time best Bird poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of bird poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Bird Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Bird poems are below this new poems list.

Black Bird On a Wire by Lamoureux, Richard
bird warrior by Baez, Sebastian Aaron
Akward Bird by Young, Alexis
Communicating the Bird by Ronnow, Robert
BIRD OF LOVE AND LOYALTY by MANICKAM, V.MUTHU
I am a Dove Bird by Sanchi, Sanchita
SONG BIRD ARISING by jimmy boom semtex, nick armbrister
I AM A MOCKING BIRD by Mutindi, Grace
Longing Bird by Ben, Su
I Am a an Killdeer Bird by Roper, Eve

View all new Bird Poems

The Best Bird Poems

Details | Bird Poem | |

Night Owl

Sitting by her open window,
Was a girl deep in thought,
Lost within a book of Poe,
A perfect poem she sought.

With a curious eye,
He watches her pen,
For she gives it a try,
Every now and then.

He will visit her forevermore,
In silent hours of midnight,
Casting his shadow on her floor,
Within the full moonlight.

Mysterious, nocturnal bird,
Calling out to darkened land,
Speaking such wise word,
Which I cannot understand.

I am lonely, I must confess,
It's just you, me and the moon,
You are much like me, I guess,
So, please sing me another tune.

A messenger of death,
Wailing songs of a banshee,
Has my grim reaper cometh,
Was this warning meant for me?

My soul was projected,
In the shadow of a fowl,
A raven I had expected,
Not the silhouette of an owl!

More great poems below...


Details | Bird Poem | |

The tawny Throstle

Trudging under frozen starlit skies
Against stiff Winters bitter blowes;
When ambling up past frosted trees
From the wooded valley down below.

As stepping into a clearing glade,
Surround ragged drifts of thinning snow,
Once Summers haze - long since forbade,
Now pale Moon beams all aglow.

For within this realm of Twilight,
Perched high up in a bush,
Snugly within his feathered form
Roosts a warbled Darkling Thrush.

Stirred from his ruffled thoughts -
Dulcet voice lifts upon still night:
With euphonious notes so sweetly sung -
Poured forth in harmonious delight!

Oh tawny Throstle; nemesis of
Nightingales, 
Did Heavens Choirs ever sound so sweet?
Your scrawny throat of melodious rails
That kept my lover from her feet.

Details | Bird Poem | |

- A Bird Sings Only When It Is Happy -

  



A white dove flies gracefully across vision
Shines as transparent pieces of ivory joy

I give you a Candle of Love, for inspire and encourage you
Blown gently upon a soft warm lovely breeze 

Falling slowly like a ripe apple 
With sad confusion, I promise you heaven

Everything will fall into place and gives you, perfect pleasure of life
Love whispering on wings fluttering deep

It is possible to change your tomorrow, if you seek your dream today
To watch the light change i pray for your beauty to return

My arms are full of flowers, the beauty the unfathomable grace
Reborn under a promise of color inside the mist bouquet dream 





Written by Liam Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  11.04.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Details | Bird Poem | |

On this lovely morning

On this lovely morning

I sit here, this fine morning
And I feel I have to write
Just as the day is dawning
It gives me sweet delight
Black Cockatoos fly overhead
It's a lovely mystic morn
On this wondrous path I tread
A new day it is born.

The sun comes shining high above
The sky is mystic blue
It bathes the flowers with its love
They shine in every hue
As only love can fill my soul
The love for everything
The whole wide world it seems so whole
My heart begins to sing.

As birds they feed upon my lawn
Such pleasure I do feel
The mystery that comes with dawn
So tender and so real
I feel it to my deepest core
It mesmerises me
How I really do adore
Dawns lovely mystery.

15 October 2014


 









Details | Bird Poem | |

One Broken Monoku

gathered on the lawn at Sabbath's dawn -

                                          a chattering of starlings

More great poems below...


Details | Bird Poem | |

One Lazy Afternoon

 
 
It was one lazy afternoon laying in the hammock under the azure sky sheltered from the blistering sun by the canopy of the old oak tree chru chru chru warbles from the Bluebird can be heard as she calls for her mate Closing my eyes I soar, I soar so high above the tallest branch floating free gliding in the wind travelling towards the perfumed breezes of pansy fields watching their velveteen petals sway like her hips when she dances in the stream watching their alluring moves attracting the pollinator with seducing aromas Almost tasting the sweetened nectar soft and smooth like her honeycombed hair pleasing like her sun-kissed skin which keeps taunting my dreams with ephimeral wishes of untamed adventures with her.

Details | Bird Poem | |

Dead tree

Dead tree.

She stands there like she has for years
The life in her all gone
Once she wore a coat of green
And she'd be filled with song
As feathered friends of every kind
Would rest among her leaves
And as in life the same in death
Our tree will never grieve.

So all alone, she looks, this tree
All etched against black clouds
Although the life in her be gone
She stands there looking proud
And all her majesty is seen
By those with eyes to see
I take her picture once again
Try to catch her mystery

21 September 2013 @1920hrs.

Details | Bird Poem | |

I feel God's breath in nature

Irish sonnet


I feel Gods breath in nature

The birds are singing. Beautiful it be
The trees are swaying on the morning breeze
Oh how it fills me with such mystery
Oh my, how nature fills me with such ease
I love the flowers; love the birds, and trees
I feel Gods breath in everything that grows
Something it glows within the heart of me
A force of love so deep within me flows
When I’m with nature something in me knows
That God is good, how can this not be true
When birds sing out, I always feel his glow
The perfume of the flowers brings it too
Oh, nature, how she thrills me through, and through
Seems, God is there in everything I do

17 November 2014

Irish Sonnet
Obviously influenced by the English sonnet there ia also still a Celtic influece in making a link from stanza to stanza.. It still follows the three quaterns and a couplet pattern, but each stanza is linked to the next giving a rhyme pattern of;
a. b. a. b. . b. c. b. c. . c. d. c. d. .d.d.
Here is an example. It is written in 10 syllables throughout.

Details | Bird Poem | |

Haiku 69-About The Swan Lake

swan lake a feather falls silently

Details | Bird Poem | |

Musicians



Acronet

Musicians

My
Use of
Sweet music
Is to bring joy
Causing harmony
Into my heart to come
As my days are getting on
Nothing can be so beautiful
Sweet classics they gently touch my heart

Such sweet music touches my heart strings
Nothing makes my heart sing like this
As the birds sing each new day
I just ponder on life 
Causing bliss to come
in wondrous joy
Soothingly
Unto
Me

16 September 2014 @1633hrs 




*Acronet was created by Pat Simpson. It begins with a 9 letter title word. Use link above forum to select a word. It must be left justified and starts with each line with the letter in title. This means it starts with 1 syllable on line one and then on line two 2 syl, then line 3 3 syl, line 4 4 syl, line 5 5 syl, line 6 6 syllables, line 7 7 syl, line 8 8 syllables, and line line 9 syllables. Ok that was first verse...

Now you take the title again but use the letters backwards to begin each line first line is now 9 syllables, using the last letter in title, next line is 8 syllables using next to last letter in title, etc.. until on line 9 you end up with one syllalbe and the first letter of the title word.

There is no rhyme here and can be any subject. Good luck...

Details | Bird Poem | |

I look around me and I see

I look around me

I look around me and I see
So much lovely mystery
It fills my heart it fills my soul
I feel the power, and I feel whole
The birds, the trees, the lovely flowers
The sun that opens dawn’s sweet hour
I love it all, I always will
No one could ever know the way I feel

I walk in peace those wetland trails
I feel the wind, sometimes it howls
I hear those birds in yonder trees
I see those leaves dance on the breeze
I hear the ravens lonely call
I feel the rain as it gently falls
I see the lake shine with delight
 I see the stars that fill the sky each night

I love this life, it’s beautiful
I love each day, I love it all
I feel such joy touching my soul
This loveliness, makes me feel whole
The power of life is strong in me
I’m part of all this mystery
I feel gods power everywhere
No matter where I look she’s always there

15 April 2013



Details | Bird Poem | |

The Butterflies Dance - Whitney

 
~The Butterflies Dance~ (A Double Whitney) The sun is so warm and nice there is cheer everywhere cause spring has sprung one more time and winter so cold is now gone. The robins have returned and the hibiscus and the roses bloom again to my delight Now I see butterflies dance. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2012 January.27.2015

Details | Bird Poem | |

CONCEITED BIRD

arrogant and proud nothing ruffles his feathers train of eyes watching *The peacock’s tail is known as a train Jan Allison 8th April 2015

Details | Bird Poem | |

Death Tolls

The atmosphere rings with the bell like calls
of the plover flock, long before they are spotted.
The flight herringbones a grey fedora sky.
Markings of white and coal black weave,
wing-stitched, a blanket maker’s dream.

Sigh makers 	they close on the beach 
at high tide, the horizon shivers      the
sand blanches. These ravishing scavengers
light on the tattered edge of wet to dry,
dawdling with the dead.

Plovers are diminutive scroungers, one-legged
dancers, hopping to the pull of tide, dining on
crab-eggs in black-tie and feathered tails, their
gray skull caps lined with a black brow. 
Sparrow-small birds dress to the nines. 
 
A feast for the birds, fall crisps, crab moltings,
go on for endless miles. September is beginning
and soon winged ones will fly to sunny shores.
The cold Atlantic will moan for the loss of music,
the unstitched sky will part. The avian choir is off 
to the mud flats of Carolina. 


First Published Eunoia Review January 2015

Details | Bird Poem | |

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 | Bird Poem | |

As river flows

As River flows.

As river flows so peacefully
I sit here just content to be
As Ravens fly so high above
This morning, it was made for love
It enters deep into my soul
It’s sweetness making me so whole
This softest morning mystery
Oh, how it reaches out to me

The trees, they dance so gracefully
They wave, and flow upon the breeze
Bird song drifts from happy branches
Oh lord, how this my heart enhances
Silence rules above all this
A kind of stillness filled with bliss
Captivates my very core
Oh, I’d not wish for any more.

The river peaceful, calm and still
So wonderful it makes me feel
As it reflects those dancing trees
I watch and let the morning breeze
Caress my skin so tenderly
Then all is gone, there’s only me
The emptiness of all that is
I’m sailing on the waves of bliss.

15 March 2014 @ 0705hrs.

Details | Bird Poem | |

The Flight of Bebo

Bebo was a bird
who could not fly
He kept flapping his wings 
'cause he knew he must try

There were two other birds 
that were laughing at him
As he was jumping and flapping
up high on a limb

It must be so hard 
to be stuck in a tree
Said, those two silly birds
That were laughing at me

I do not like you
get out of my tree
Don't you have somewhere to go?
Don't you have somewhere to be?

Bebo then said
let me get back to my endeavor 
Or, I'll be stuck in this tree
forever and ever

He knows he's a bird
he eats worms and sings
He just needs a good breeze
to get under his wings

Bebo worked hard all week 
to get into the air
Then he started to cry
Yelling, this isn't fair

With tears down his cheeks
Bebo looked at the sky
He said, I know I'm a bird
so why can't I fly?

The wind then spoke out
and said, It's not how you try
You must climb to the top
You must get really high

Then open your wings
and face into me
I will help you find flight 
just get up there, you'll see

Bebo went to the top
of his lonely old tree
He opened his wings
and, waited to see

The wind then picked up
and, carried him high
Bebo was laughing with joy
'cause now he could fly

From that day on
Bebo was happy with flight 
He said goodbye to his tree
and, then he flew out of sight

Details | Bird Poem | |

Whilst walking through the woods

Whilst walking through the woods one day
A crystal brook there, shone so gay
The sun was shining oh' so bright
As brook reflected all it's light

Buzzing insects all around
Oh' they made a delightful sound
Birds flew upwards to the sky
These parrots made a hue and cry

Carpet of flowers with lovely scent
It seemed this morn way heaven sent
The flowers opened to the sun
This walk for me was so much fun

Sheep bleated from far away
Oh it was such a lovely day

Details | Bird Poem | |

Looking at a buterfly

Looking At A Butterfly

I was looking at a butterfly
And I saw God instead.
It stretched it’s lovely brindle wings
And stopped the mind quite dead.
For mirrored in its sanctity
There was a sacred power
That penetrated all of me
Till I became a flower.

I looked into the depth of it
That white hibiscus flower.
As I stood there for a moment
And I stood there for an hour.
And God was looking back at me
As its stamen stood right out
And the power filled me to the brim
And took away all doubt.

I heard a Wagtail whistling there
In a thick and luscious tree.
As day just melted into song
I heard eternity.
The song then melted in my heart
And the Wagtail disappeared 
And everything that was, was me
And the light destroyed my fears.

Details | Bird Poem | |

GRACEFUL THE POSE


How graceful the swan’s pose that circles a quay Her elegant plumes flitting away, To dance as night-tide approaches When furled gait twitches, In a bold Pose! Stars behold This charm like a rose, As waltzes on tides enclose The bloomed poses of her last display. How graceful the swan’s pose that circles a quay.

Details | Bird Poem | |

White Crane And Beauty's Flight

White Crane And Beauty's Flight 

White crane flying high overhead
swooping down to its feeding bed
Brilliant flash of gliding white
awesome in high circling flight

Shimmering water receives a guest
one bound with a hungering quest
Majestic beauty stops for a feast
as sun beams down from the east

Grace and calm marks its hot task
seeking prey beneath waters mask
Patience may just bring a reward
yet every hunt is so very hard

This scene, bird awaiting its meal
almost magic as its often surreal
Waters give up that precious dish
As white crane gobbles up its fish

To the blue skies it quickly goes
flashing its gleaming white shows
White wings beating slow and wide
destined to return next low tide

White crane leaving high overhead
quite content as its so well fed
Magnificent sight in the blue sky
fish flopping in the lake nearby

Robert J. Lindley

note :  A dear friend asked me to write a poem about a beautiful bird.
And paint it in Nature as it would be most days.
I've always marvelled at the white cranes and their great white wings as
they fly by , so out came this write. Hope you may enjoy..

Details | Bird Poem | |

Autumn on my page


There is a wind ,  which sketched,
Without my knowledge,  the message;

Autumn had lying words,
On my page.

It was by way of red leaves,
The bird of passage,
Twirling in space,

I followed it of my glance
And its woven loops,
On the canvas of the sky.

I just transcribed,
What the wings,

Supported on the wind,
Said to me.

-
(translated from french )
--

C'est un vent qui traçait,
A mon insu,         le message  ;

L'automne avait couché les mots,
Sur ma page.

C'étaient en guise de feuilles rousses,
L'oiseau de passage,
Virevoltant dans l'espace,

Je l'ai suivi de mon regard,
Et de ses boucles tissées,
Sur la toile du ciel .

J'ai seulement retranscrit,
Ce que les ailes,

Appuyées sur le vent,
M'avaient dit.


Details | Bird Poem | |

Wearying for you too

An answer to Frank L Stantons  'Wearyin' for you' as Robert Lindley requested.

Wearying for you too

I’m wearying for you as well
Each day is like some kind of Hell
I’m missing you with all my heart
I cannot stand us being apart
I want to be there, home with you
It seems like crying’s all I do

My love, I also feel this way
It gets worse from day to day
People pass me, and they look
They see I’m looing so forsook
They just don’t know how I love you
It seems like crying’s all I do.

I miss that chair, I really do
Sitting there, just me and you
With fire alight, heating the room
And you and I we seem to bloom
Oh Darling I’m so lonesome too
It seems like crying’s all I do

I take a walk in the city streets
I say hello to folk I meet
But there’s no life within my voice
I’m miserable I have no choice
Because my love, I’m missing you
It seems like crying’s all I do.

I go back home in the dark of night
And still I’m feeling far from bright
I go to bed, and try to sleep
As lonely night, it hears me weep
I lie awake the whole night through
It seems like crying’s all I do

The long night over, the dawn is here
It’s still the same, I miss you Dear
The birds they give no joy at all
This loneliness oh, it’s so cruel
I feel so down, I’m missing you
It seems that crying’s all I do.

I’m coming home, can’t take no more
My bags all packed, I’m out the door
I need to see your smile again
This loneliness drives me insane
I don’t want this I just need you
It seems that crying’s all I do

28 July 2014 @ 1230hrs.





Details | Bird Poem | |

Sinister Encounter

Poe laid flowers on her grave
    His lost Lenore
    One he’d love forevermore 
    But doomed to see her nevermore

Storm clouds expelled true daylight
     Yet near her grave on a dead oak tree
     An ebony raven stared and seemed to agree
     “Nevermore,” the bird mocked, flying off with ironic glee

Clouds burst, pelting the cemetery with rain
     Back to his horse and carriage Poe ran
     Was Poe a pawn in this raven’s game plan
     An unhealthy racing of his heart began

Arriving home, Poe sought to forget
     But there was the red-eyed, sinister bird
     Perched on the pallid bust of Pallas, it said just one word
     “Nevermore,” was all Poe heard

Stealthily the bird had entered through an open window
     “Did God summon you to add to my grief?”
     Poe pleaded, “Will I ever find relief?”
     “Nevermore,” cried the demon, to Poe’s disbelief

Poe tried to rid his home of the tormenting invader
     “Fly away; take your word with you!”
     But the evil visitor would not bid adieu
     Its single word was malicious; Poe could not misconstrue

When rainfall ended, the raven flew to the windowsill
     “Be gone!” Poe screamed, his voice filled with hate
     It eyed him once more, leaving Poe in a crazed state
     But loving memories of Lenore it could not desecrate



*Written October 1, 2014

Details | Bird Poem | |

Hummingbird

             Beating wings furiously fast. 
             Taking sips, long it won't last.

              A flash of color blink you won't see
              The Hummingbird fly up in the tree.

              Coming early summer, leaving late fall
              migrating for winter as this is her call.  

              We'll see her again when the flowers bloom.
              Leaving again before winter's gloom.