Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

 Poet
1 William Wordsworth
2 William Shakespeare
3 Oscar Wilde
4 Emily Dickinson
5 Maya Angelou
6 Rabindranath Tagore
7 Robert Frost
8 Langston Hughes
9 Walt Whitman
10 Shel Silverstein
11 William Blake
12 Sylvia Plath
13 Pablo Neruda
14 Alfred Lord Tennyson
15 William Butler Yeats
16 Rudyard Kipling
17 Tupac Shakur
18 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
19 Charles Bukowski
20 Muhammad Ali
21 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
22 Sandra Cisneros
23 Sarojini Naidu
24 Alice Walker
25 Billy Collins
26 Christina Rossetti
27 Carol Ann Duffy
28 Edgar Allan Poe
29 John Donne
30 Ralph Waldo Emerson
31 Nikki Giovanni
32 Raymond Carver
33 John Keats
34 Ogden Nash
35 Lewis Carroll
36 Thomas Hardy
37 Mark Twain
38 Spike Milligan
39 Carl Sandburg
40 Anne Sexton
41 Percy Bysshe Shelley
42 Alexander Pushkin
43 Henry David Thoreau
44 Thunchaththu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan
45 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
46 Roger McGough
47 Sara Teasdale
48 Victor Hugo
49 George (Lord) Byron
50 Gary Soto

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Famous Short Bird Poems

Famous Short Bird Poems. Short Bird Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Bird short poems

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Bird | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings

silence

silence

.
is a looking bird:the turn ing;edge of life (inquiry before snow


by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.


by Emily Dickinson

Sang from the Heart Sire

 Sang from the Heart, Sire,
Dipped my Beak in it,
If the Tune drip too much
Have a tint too Red

Pardon the Cochineal --
Suffer the Vermillion --
Death is the Wealth
Of the Poorest Bird.
Bear with the Ballad -- Awkward -- faltering -- Death twists the strings -- 'Twasn't my blame -- Pause in your Liturgies -- Wait your Chorals -- While I repeat your Hallowed name --


by Shel Silverstein

Weird-Bird

 Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north, Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin', Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, "It's not that I like ice Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice To be the only bird in town.
"


by Alexander Pushkin

A Little Bird

 In alien lands I keep the body
Of ancient native rites and things:
I gladly free a little birdie
At celebration of the spring.
I'm now free for consolation, And thankful to almighty Lord: At least, to one of his creations I've given freedom in this world!


by Emily Dickinson

It makes no difference abroad --

 It makes no difference abroad --
The Seasons -- fit -- the same --
The Mornings blossom into Noons --
And split their Pods of Flame --

Wild flowers -- kindle in the Woods --
The Brooks slam -- all the Day --
No Black bird bates his Banjo --
For passing Calvary --

Auto da Fe -- and Judgment --
Are nothing to the Bee --
His separation from His Rose --
To Him -- sums Misery --


by Emily Dickinson

Without this -- there is nought --

 Without this -- there is nought --
All other Riches be
As is the Twitter of a Bird --
Heard opposite the Sea --

I could not care -- to gain
A lesser than the Whole --
For did not this include themself --
As Seams -- include the Ball?

I wished a way might be
My Heart to subdivide --
'Twould magnify -- the Gratitude --
And not reduce -- the Gold --


by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Repeat That Repeat

 Repeat that, repeat,
Cuckoo, bird, and open ear wells, heart-springs, delightfully sweet,
With a ballad, with a ballad, a rebound 
Off trundled timber and scoops of the hillside ground, hollow hollow hollow ground:
The whole landscape flushes on a sudden at a sound.


by Emily Dickinson

A Lady red -- amid the Hill

 A Lady red -- amid the Hill
Her annual secret keeps!
A Lady white, within the Field
In placid Lily sleeps!

The tidy Breezes, with their Brooms --
Sweep vale -- and hill -- and tree!
Prithee, My pretty Housewives!
Who may expected be?

The Neighbors do not yet suspect!
The Woods exchange a smile!
Orchard, and Buttercup, and Bird --
In such a little while!

And yet, how still the Landscape stands!
How nonchalant the Hedge!
As if the "Resurrection"
Were nothing very strange!


by Robert Frost

A Minor Bird

 I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;

Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.
The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.
And of course there must be something wrong In wanting to silence any song.


by R S Thomas

A Marriage

 We met
 under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed, love's moment in a world in servitude to time.
She was young; I kissed with my eyes closed and opened them on her wrinkles.
`Come,' said death, choosing her as his partner for the last dance, And she, who in life had done everything with a bird's grace, opened her bill now for the shedding of one sigh no heavier than a feather.


by Emily Bronte

The Sun Has Set

 The sun has set, and the long grass now 
Waves dreamily in the evening wind; 
And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone 
In some warm nook a couch to find.
In all the lonely landscape round I see no light and hear no sound, Except the wind that far away Come sighing o'er the healthy sea.


by Percy Bysshe Shelley

A widow bird sate mourning for her Love

A WIDOW bird sate mourning for her Love 
Upon a wintry bough; 
The frozen wind crept on above  
The freezing stream below.
There was no leaf upon the forest bare.
5 No flower upon the ground And little motion in the air Except the mill-wheel's sound.


by Emily Dickinson

The Doomed -- regard the Sunrise

 The Doomed -- regard the Sunrise
With different Delight --
Because -- when next it burns abroad
They doubt to witness it --

The Man -- to die -- tomorrow --
Harks for the Meadow Bird --
Because its Music stirs the Axe
That clamors for his head --

Joyful -- to whom the Sunrise
Precedes Enamored -- Day --
Joyful -- for whom the Meadow Bird
Has ought but Elegy!


by Robert Frost

Fragmentary Blue

 Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)--
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.


by Anna Akhmatova

And As Its Going..

An as it's going often at love's breaking,
The ghost of first days came again to us,
The silver willow through window then stretched in,
The silver beauty of her gentle branches.
The bird began to sing the song of light and pleasure To us, who fears to lift looks from the earth, Who are so lofty, bitter and intense, About days when we were saved together.


by Spike Milligan

Summer Dawn

 My sleeping children are still flying dreams 
in their goose-down heads.
The lush of the river singing morning songs Fish watch their ceilings turn sun-white.
The grey-green pike lances upstream Kale, like mermaid's hair points the water's drift.
All is morning hush and bird beautiful.
I only, I didn't have flu.


by Emily Dickinson

God gave a loaf to every bird

God gave a loaf to every bird,
But just a crumb to me;
I dare not eat it, though I starve,--
My poignant luxury
To own it, touch it, prove the feat
That made the pellet mine,--
Too happy in my sparrow chance
For ampler coveting.
It might be famine all around, I could not miss an ear, Such plenty smiles upon my board, My garner shows so fair.
I wonder how the rich may feel,-- An Indiaman--an Earl? I deem that I with but a crumb Am sovereign of them all.


by Oscar Wilde

Impression - Le Reveillon

 The sky is laced with fitful red,
The circling mists and shadows flee,
The dawn is rising from the sea,
Like a white lady from her bed.
And jagged brazen arrows fall Athwart the feathers of the night, And a long wave of yellow light Breaks silently on tower and hall, And spreading wide across the wold Wakes into flight some fluttering bird, And all the chestnut tops are stirred, And all the branches streaked with gold.


by Emily Dickinson

A lane of Yellow led the eye

 A lane of Yellow led the eye
Unto a Purple Wood
Whose soft inhabitants to be
Surpasses solitude
If Bird the silence contradict
Or flower presume to show
In that low summer of the West
Impossible to know --


by Emily Dickinson

A Wind that rose

 A Wind that rose
Though not a Leaf
In any Forest stirred
But with itself did cold engage
Beyond the Realm of Bird --
A Wind that woke a lone Delight
Like Separation's Swell
Restored in Arctic Confidence
To the Invisible --


by Elizabeth Bishop

Sonnet (1979)

 Caught -- the bubble
in the spirit level,
a creature divided;
and the compass needle
wobbling and wavering,
undecided.
Freed -- the broken thermometer's mercury running away; and the rainbow-bird from the narrow bevel of the empty mirror, flying wherever it feels like, gay!


by Christina Rossetti

May

 I cannot tell you how it was,
But this I know: it came to pass
Upon a bright and sunny day
When May was young; ah, pleasant May!
As yet the poppies were not born
Between the blades of tender corn;
The last egg had not hatched as yet,
Nor any bird foregone its mate.
I cannot tell you what it was, But this I know: it did but pass.
It passed away with sunny May, Like all sweet things it passed away, And left me old, and cold, and gray.


by Paul Laurence Dunbar

A Golden Day

 I Found you and I lost you, 
All on a gleaming day.
The day was filled with sunshine, And the land was full of May.
A golden bird was singing Its melody divine, I found you and I loved you, And all the world was mine.
I found you and I lost you, All on a golden day, But when I dream of you, dear, It is always brimming May.


by Emily Dickinson

After all Birds have been investigated and laid aside --

 After all Birds have been investigated and laid aside --
Nature imparts the little Blue-Bird -- assured
Her conscientious Voice will soar unmoved
Above ostensible Vicissitude.
First at the March -- competing with the Wind -- Her panting note exalts us -- like a friend -- Last to adhere when Summer cleaves away -- Elegy of Integrity.