Login
|
Join PoetrySoup
Home
Submit Poems
Login
Sign Up
Member Home
My Poems
My Quotes
My Profile & Settings
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Soup Mail
Contest Results/Status
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Videos
Resources
Syllable Counter
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Anthology
Grammar Check
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Quotes
Short Stories
Member Area
Member Home
My Profile and Settings
My Poems
My Quotes
My Short Stories
My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder
Soup Social
Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us
Member Poems
Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Random
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread
Member Poets
Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100
Famous Poets
Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War
Poetry Resources
Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 216.73.216.244
Your Email Address:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email Address:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Birdman Bold Dewi Jones would leave his home first thing every morning, and trot him down to Towy Wood just as day was dawning, and there he filled his Tesco bag, five pence from any store, with chickweed celandine and seed and other weeds galore. Then he fed them to his finches to peck at in the cage, while he ate his Kellog Cornflakes and read the sporting page. When Dewi was a kid at school he hadn’t many toys, and on the farm out in the sticks there were no other boys, so the woods became his playground, a bird his childhood friend, and he played a game with finches he prayed would never end. Their songs were short machinegun bursts that echoed through the wood, and Dewi, in green camouflage, would stalk like Robin Hood. A grown-up now, he made a frame that lay beneath a net, and then with trails of wild bird seed a crafty trap he set. That’s how he caught his lovely birds, cunning if not clever, and neighbours came along to praise Dewi-boys endeavour. Yet we all Knew that in the wood, birds sang like heaven’s choir, while, in the confines of the cage, finches were much shyer. Now Dewi’s wife, religious was, chapel every morning, in Aberystwyth born and bred, should have been a warning. Though pleasant to the roving eye, pretty as a flower, like milk upon a summer’s day she curdled and went sour. “It’s wings God gave,” his wife would scream, “so birds can rise and fly; and nature gave them songs to praise the wonders of the sky.” One day while on his morning rounds bold-Dewi had a stroke. “An awful thing,” the village said, “for such a lovely bloke.” No muscle could the birdman move, eyelids would not flutter. The voice that once trilled, “Sosban Fach,” not a word could utter. We don’t know why God struck him down, spite – or was it pleasure? What e’er the Lord was dishing out, Dewi got full measure. Now Dewi’s sitting in a chair, just staring into space, and carers who come twice a day, pour soup into his face. His wife just up and left him, no fuss or angry words, just said, “I hate to see you there, caged up like your birds.”
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required