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Bird Education Poems | Bird Poems About Education

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

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Details | Personification |

Snowy Owl

In majestic beauty I stand alone
My lifetime mate included
Together on land we build our home
Preferably secluded
My five foot wingspan is solid white
Hunting is done in the light
Fish, rabbits, rodents and birds are nice
Lemmings are a daily delight
With yellow eyes and beard of black
I rule my frozen domain
Neither fox nor wolf would dare attack
Even eagles are aware of my fame
The ghost like snowy male owl am I
With razor sharp talons to die for
Arctic tundra is where I prowl up high
Where snow peaks are just the ground floor.

    Feb 6 2016 an original poem by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |

I loved My Life of Bird

I fly in the sky
I swim in the sea 
I sleep in the night
And in the trees I live

The forest once was my home
That I always cherished
For me and every one
Who lived on this beautiful heaven?

Coming into the flame of fire
Together with my family
Helps me to remember and tell to all
That has caused the dead of all?

Came five days ago
Three to four men
With something in there mind known as the plan
To destroy what was known as our home

Came few men 
After few days
To destroy us all together with the forest
To clear the land

They lighted the fire
They parked some big bulldozers
To clear the trees and removes the stones
After everything is burnt by the flames of the fire

Together with my family
Praying to the god as one
To forgive our sin 
And tell the reason for this everything

Nothing I heard from up
But something from down 
As few men said
For the development, let happen this destruction

Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

KA, The Lost Canadian Goose

for my gentle handsome son, Keith Andrew-

The young Canadian goose was lost in flight,
Not knowing which way to turn-
Now he depended on instinct and sight,
And what he had already learned-

The clouds engulfed all his air space,
And for the skein his heart did yearn-
They were migrating north in springtime,
Towards their nesting grounds to return-

He was sure he could navigate the course,
But he really needed to see-
For now it was against time that he raced,
Hoping that soon with them all he would be-

He flew at an altitude of 3,000 feet, 
the migration height that geese fly-
’but then remembered on some occasions,
they’d go up 27,000 feet in the sky!

He tried to get his bearings,  
by estimating their rate of speed-
Canadian Geese cover 1,500 miles a day,
He’d have to fly faster to succeed- 

KA, with courage geared up,
and charged right through the distant clouds-
He spotted black feathered necks and feet,
and heard lots honking that was loud-

His father was in the lead,
of the “V” formation that geese fly-
His mother was right behind,
Asking, “Where did he go and why?”

The young Canadian goose remained in back,
Until all of them touched the ground-
Mother emerged from the gaggle with glee,
Happy her son was found-

Mom and father were together for life-
In the geese world that’s how it goes-
Now it was KA’s time to find a mate,
He made it just in time to propose!

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

Details | Didactic |

The Peacock

I have been admiring the peacock for long
i thought, nothing with him could be wrong
seen strutting with plumage so bright
so silent, his beauty was all my sight
did not think that such pure elegance
is skin deep, hiding a degree of insolence

yes, indeed, the bird is so discrete
'cause, he thinks, he deserves much merit
with that colourful gown, it looks fine
and so silent, his beauty, surely will shine

then, i approach the bird to hear his music
appraising his beauty with words from magic
but, all the romance and the dreams did blow
as the sound of the bird,is worse than a caw

so then, i told myself not ever to deal
with any beauty, looking quiet and still
for the still waters are actually running
deeply hollow, like a wolf, smartly cunning

Dedicated to those who are disappointed by the fake features and faces!

Copyright © Lonely Shepherd | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Winged Lessons

Winged Lessons
            by Odin Roark

Sitting astride his backpack,
A roadside nomadic looked up from his book.
The sun oppressing,
The sand distressing,
The bird noise progressing.

“From where came your right
To straddle fence wire and incessantly complain
With pompous cawing at a resting traveler,
As if he didn’t belong?

Who made you judge and jury for speeding cars
Trying to avoid your missile-like whitewash
As they chase setting suns
And see me only as a roadside shadow?

What do you know of windblown highway ditches as nightly shelter,
Or roadside memorials of white-cross remembrances,
All kinds of lives suddenly stopped?

Rather than making all that commotion,
Wouldn’t you be better off listening a little more,
Enjoying the fluttering quiet of those beautiful black-opal wings,
As you swoop in on sign posts and rusted-out abandoned cars?

What’s with your nasty disposition, anyway?
And why aren’t you carrying on like the raven you are,
Instead of the your noisy lessor specie, the crow?

Oh never mind.
Just shove off.
Let me have some peace
While I work through Poe’s take on your gnarly purpose.
Better still, just shut up and listen.”

‘And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!’

“See what I mean…
Maybe this Poe fella is trying to explain
Neither one of us is gonna live forever,

Copyright © Odin Roark | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

How The Sun Was Made

Before man, there was only twilight upon the earth. The earth was divided by two realms, realms, not kingdoms; one above the earth, the Sky, ruled by the birds. The other, the Land, upon the earth, ruled by the beasts.

In the sky, among the clouds, was a large pile of firewood. How it got there is unknown.
It is believed to be there as a resting place for birds not wanting to rest on land.

One twilight, an enormous eagle dove toward the land. His dive caused an emu on the land to panic, thinking it was being attacked, the emu jumped up and struck the eagle. 

The eagle and the emu began a heated argument, then began to fight. The emu, in anger, plucked an eagle feather. The eagle, in its rage, swooped over to the emu nest, grabbing one of her huge eggs in its beak, soared skyward.

As the eagle climbed, he swung his head throwing the egg higher into the sky. The emu
screeched in horror as the egg smashed against the firewood. The yoke breaking, sparked, igniting the firewood, lighting up both realms of the earth.

Suddenly, the earth was bright and beautiful. All were dazzled, but soon relaxed, as the
fire begin to warm. The leader of the Sky saw the light and the warmth it produced as good.

He saw as the fire burned, it produced more heat and comforted all. It also began to
decrease the light and got cooler as the firewood went out. This was a bad thing, he
called all the birds together to gather firewood to keep the fire burning.

As the fire became coals, the light again returned to twilight and darkness.
The birds worked for hours to replenish the firewood.

As they began to pile wood upon the coals, the fire reignited. As the fire got bigger,
there was more light, and warmth. 

When the birds had piled on all the wood gathered, the fire again began to decrease in
light and warmth.

Again each twilight, the birds would gather firewood for hours.

After an undetermined time, light and the darkness defined. As the earth warmed and became more beautiful, the realms became one.

The Spirit of the earth saw what the birds had done and what had become of the earth was good. He moved the fire outward from the earth and made it burn all the time.

He made the earth turn. Day and night were created. The birds and the beasts were one with the earth.

The spirit of the earth was pleased. He had created the heavens and the earth, reaching into the earth, he grabbed a handful of dirt in his hands, Smiling, saying all is good, He created Man.

Copyright © Mac McGovern | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

The Bird Is The Word

<                   encircling mountain's crest... the mighty eagle .. soars

                     amidst wetlands standing erect the blue huron
                     toppling muskrat homes waiting for mice and shrews
                     colonies emerge shrub trees and lagoons to bond
                     butterflies flutter medows of greenish hues
                     snaphots taken afar this is all I could do

                     catails ~ sway ~ sounds ~  thunder
                     pheasants fly off in frenzy
                     braided and despaired
                     yet forges right on ahead
                     they live see another day

                     night ~ time's ~ calling ~ for ~ the ~ wise ~ old ~ owl
                     bidding feathered friends well ado's

A combination of Monoku, Quintain {English }
Tanka & Crystalline For
Constance LaFrance's For {Four } Beautiful Birds Contest
Written by Katherine Stella




Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

Owlology 101

This is a poem I wrote last year for my grand children....one loves bird...future ornithologist, maybe?

Owls belong to one of two different families or classes,
Even though there are more than 216 types in their masses,
The barn owl - 18 different ones, are in one class by themselves
The other 198 are true owls, including the little elf- 

You can tell to which family an owl belongs, in several different ways,
All barn owls are nocturnal but some true owls awaken during the day,
Barn owls have heart shaped faces - true owls faces are round,
True owls have ear tufts - on barn owls these can’t be found-

These beautiful creatures are called birds of prey or raptors,
And most of them play the survival role in life as captors,
Sharp beaks, sharp talons, a “parliament” if in a group together,
They live everywhere on earth, regardless of the weather-

Owls have poor vision when looking at things near,
But in low light or at a distance, their vision is exceptionally clear,
Their eyeballs are fixed - they look straight ahead to see,
That's why they can rotate their heads,  a full 270 degrees-

There's  no denying that an owl hears better than us,
More acute at certain frequencies, the slightest movement even on dust,
The disc shaped face is not a face alone, but more a radar dish instead,
With ear openings behind the eyes and asymmetrically on its head-

Camouflaged with muted feathers of white, gray, tan and black,
An owl blends into its environment just before an attack,
With softened edges on its' feathers, this silent killer flies undetected,
Swooping down upon its prey with presence unexpected-

Owls make all different kinds of sounds, resonating soft or loud,
It depends on what vocal cords, with which they’ve been endowed,
True owls hoot, whistle, trill, and can produce a melodic, pretty sound, 
Barn owls have a raspy screech with sounds that are quite profound-

The elf owl is the smallest – the size of a small sparrow bird, 
It will take flight to escape a fight, because peace is what it prefers, 
When threatened it plays dead, then feeling safe, will fly away and GO,
Weighing about an ounce and a half, it lives in cacti or a tree hole-

The Blakiston’s Fish Owl is over ten pounds, the heaviest owl you can find, 
The powerful Great Horned has no predators, except for its own kind, 
The Great Grey is the longest, three feet total in length - that’s tall,
And the Eagle Owl has a wing span over six feet - the widest of them all-

The Snowy Owl in Harry Potter is an owl that ‘s totally white, 
It is diurnal in nature - meaning it's active both day and night, 
Its low-pitched hooting sounds can be heard from six miles away,
And it prefers eating arctic lemmings - from three to five a day!

OWLOLOGY 101  STUDENTS:  Hope you've learned a thing or two-
There's much more to an owl than just a simple WHO-O-O!

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Pigeons And Falcon

            Pigeons And Falcon

Thousands of pigeons flock to the Vatican
They are not there for Sunday Mass and prayer
But to perform aerial acrobatics
And to produce droppings from up there
Feathers follow them in the air on hot dry currents
Unpleasant summertime aromas fill St. Peter’s square
People speaking a multitude of languages stare in amazement
Follow the waves and movements of the birds in flight
And think of pigeons as nasty filthy creatures
(in their respective dialects of course)
They seek God in all His perfections and dwell on nature as they reflect  
But that is not manna falling from the heavens on arms and hair
Bird droppings fall everywhere
Enter, the noble falcon on the scene
Hungry and hunting for something delicious to eat
Like an angel or saint swooping down on a golden band of light
Pigeons act purely on reflex as they take flight
Without lofty thoughts or motives
Their brains are oh so tiny and miniscule
Not wired like that
Falcon will educate them anyway
Enforce the rules of God and nature
2 Our Father’s, 3 Hail Mary’s and a good act of contrition
Are not required as penance for their sins  
They are expelled from this paradise for dropping in
Pigeons simply don’t understand religion

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Free Bird

<                             "Hark" the Herald Angels begin to sing
                 "Jesus"patiently awaits so her children can say their last goodbyes
                       Cancer is the one thing she will not have to bring
                            For she earned her wings and is now free to fly 

Entry For 
Carolyn Devonshire's
 Perception Of Heaven's Contest
G.L. All

RIP Mama

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

We the Ravens

rewrite of former poem

We are shiny sleek, black birds, 
don’t underestimate our wit,
we are of the corvid family, 
the most "intelligent,"

We are passerines, 
the largest of their kind,
19,000 feet up sometimes – 
look and us you’ll find-

For thirty years or more, 
we may fly upon this earth,
weighing up to 4 1/2 pounds, 
but only an ounce or two at birth-

We mimic other’s speech, 
and are among the smartest fowl,
we’re clever and we’re shrewd, 
and like a wolf, can howl,

A constable, a conspiracy, 
an unkindness – we’ve been called,
teamlng together for take-downs, 
we often make larger prey fall-

We make complex decisions, 
and love to frolic and play, 
even with 54 inch wing spans, 
we can do aerobatic tricks all day,

We nest in desert rock cavities, 
or in tall forest conifer trees, 
and high up in beach cliff crevices, 
hanging out over the coastal seas-

On land we take others’ food, 
that we’ve managed to cunningly seize,
letting others do the hard work first,  
then taking what we please-

In ancient times we fueled the myths, 
of symbols good and bad,
and though we have a wide repertoire of calls, 
Our croaking may drive you mad……

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic monologue |

my monologue of a little bird

little fly! Little fly!!
Flying up into the high sky.
If not for science’s
theories; man wouldn't be able 
to fly!
But for you, little fly; Flying is not 
a task, to cry!
Though some insects can also fly!
But reach not into far sky!
Man flies; by great study, cos 
none does, in great hurry!
I wonder, if men aren’t able to 
How will they reach, a far 
Cos their ability to fly; Is a life 
changing discovery!!!

Copyright © adelaja olayiwola | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

Gooooooooood Morning CCcon neck tea cuttttttttttt!

Now, if only, they would cut the damn property tax!
Maybe, the elderly wouln’t have to loose their homes and move to Florida!
Maybe, a God fearin minority member could live here and own a piece of it?

Hello out there in WASP land..
say hey To the folks in Green witch!
Governor Jodi Rell our version of the wicked witch of the east
crossed with Mrs. Ward Cleaver
is out there pounding the proverbial pavement
looking to balance the ole budget AGAIN!

Hit the road Jack and don’t ya Come Back No Mo, No Mo, No Mo, No……..
say the local daughters of the D.A.R. and the Ladies of the  Eastern Star
to the rise of minorities in the local school …..

The Good Ole Nutmeg state has quite a mix 
hell just about anything goes here!
Land of the Free home of the Brave, 
you can even get a state certified Gay marriage
Robin Red breast ain’t our state bird for nothing
one of the first 3 states to protect the early bird getting the worm!

Yup Con neck tee cut is a fine place to live and grow trees
Y’all come up some time for a visit..
just don’t head for the shore cause you can’t get to it
Snob Zoning and All….

You can find just about anything you need 
here in the good ole Nutmeg state
(did you know you can get high on Nutmeg?)
have legal hallucinates will travel
so join the local nuts SOUPERS
and come for a visit
just don’t stay too long.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |


A bird lays an egg
She keeps it warm
It starts to crack
And it hatches, during a heavy storm

It was a beautiful Lorrikeet
You could tell mother bird was proud
So out of her own happiness
She joyfully tweeted aloud

Time to fly, little Lorrikeet
Mother Bird encourages him
So he jumps off the tree
And swoops through the sky like a queen bee

On a quiet night 
A van pulls up to the tree
A shadowy figure scales it well
And he was tranquilized, faster than you could to five

Daybreak in a pet shop
He was in a cage, that's all Lorrikeet knew
Surrounded by a rainbow of birds
Name a bird and It was in view

The other birds learnt of Lorrikeet's intelligence
But then they bullied him for it
Lorrikeet grew depressed
There was no bird to make him not want to throw himself in a pit

So Lorrikeet was trapped
Trapped in a cruel world of hate
One day he'll be free
But there is no specified date

But then a little girl walked into the Pet store
But like anyone her age, she was looking at the puppies
Little girl asked Mum for a pup, but she said no
But then the tears roll down her face, What a sad show

Then something is spied in the corner of her eye
The beautiful Lorrikeet looking out of the glass cage
The little girl runs up to the cage and admires the beauty of the birds
Which are staring at the girl like one giant herd

The little girl decided for ages
Deciding which bird. There were cages and cages
But then Lorrikeet tweeted. Oh It was beautiful like a flute
The Little girl said it was a lovely toot

And so Lorrikeet was chosen
Chosen to be taken home by this sweet innocent child
Lorrikeet was happy to leave the cage of sorrow
He'll be playing with bells and eating the finest seed this time tomorrow

I wrote this poem to teach that through the hardship of bullying, victims can go on to
live long fulfilling lives. Which is the only thing that keeps my head high :)

Copyright © Tyrone Johnston | Year Posted 2010

Details | Verse |

Pressing On

She watched the mountain intently
Like a bird who’s nestling of dwelling, complains
Yet, neither will move --
Reality blooms;
A surge of genius
Strikes the hollowed core ~
Worrisome thoughts she shan’t abide…

A mother’s love still strives,
Strong willed fledgling must now -- fly
Search to build, its -- own nest
-- Mother bird soars above the mountain -- mind at rest 

An elder once said teach them well in the ways they must go… Like a hawk one must keep a 
watchful eye for they are still your prizes; you never know when they may come home to 
roost again... Or at least visit…
However, if they can't respect the home then its time 
For them to fly on their own...

Copyright © Adell Foster | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |

Indigenous Birds Of Florida

The penguin is a noble creature
From the South but not South Florida
The pigeon is a filthy thing
Found around the world
Moving on
The Dry Tortuga loves the Tropics
It is a hooded warbler small
Olive green back, yellow belly, skinny legs
Carnivorous with an appetite for bugs
With a chirp chirp chirp complexion 
Very tiny with no vocabulary
Not very bright
Few living things in Florida have intelligence
You know the rest
Enough about birds
Lets talk about corn fields
Yellow and green as far as the eye can see
They taste good boiled in water
Smothered in butter
The corn silly...not the fields.
Stay on topic please 

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

Dear Heron, I promise


Betty spoke of god’s face seen through puddles
A mirror on the way from bad to good
In puddles of my overgrown troubles
There is little ebb and flow, air and food

Yet each morning and evening without fail
Fishing for frogs or what few fish proceed
To urge their seed, Great, grey Heron, female
Greets me quietly now that we both re-seed

In this habitat, watery bowel … womb
We find sunrise beside this dying pool
God in a stand of agave in bloom
Hope in this adult education school

This promise: So long hearts beat and blood flows
Heron and I will sing of tomorrows

Copyright © Anil Deo | Year Posted 2017

Details | Verse |

A Money Pot

A man was frightened and entered into a room,
He fell in the corner and touched a broom,
He read that wording to touch a middle pot,
You can get some money that’s I have lot.

When he touched a pot it grew up a tree,
Please pour me water otherwise you aren’t free.
He picked a pot and starts to search water,
When he found a well he heard a loud laughter,

I need someone’s blood if you need pot water,
Otherwise don’t blame me I have a man slaughter,
He suddenly saw a bird and thought to kill him,
But bird said, you can slaughter me first go and tell him.

He told him to the well, I have a bird to kill,
Do you accept the blood that is only my thrill?
Mice heard the talk and he got a shock,
Why is he killing a bird, he has blood hoick?

Why is your heart n’t kind and have no mercy?
Please forgive him a bird I have a clue courtesy,
I can cut your wein you can donate blood to a well,
I am offering my friendship, that’s my thrill.

He was happy to donate blood and got water a pot,
When he poured water to a tree he laughed lot,
A big fish eats a little never have a mercy thought,
Friendship can solve a problem that’s my money pot.

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana | Year Posted 2005

Details | Verse |


A little Bird,
Moved for living,
He had chosen a tree,
When he saw his native man.

He didn’t frightened,
He welcomed him and sang a song,
Tried to fragrant his love,
And danced on the branches.

One day a guest came,
And parked his car under the tree,
When he saw the bird droppings
He stared into the man’s eyes.

He felt insult,
He had decided to cut down the tree,
He didn’t notice,
Baby birds are growing in the nest,

Tree fell down on his mouth,
They cut the branches in pieces,
When a cat saw the little birds,
They were hiding for their life.

A Man was standing in front,
He didn’t stop them,
He provoked her,
Innocents were her taste.

A bird was crying above the shade,
He noticed, a dog, cat and man,
Everyone was dumb and deaf,
No bird came back to sing them a song.

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |

Song Birds

Song Birds 

The stone paths uncharted 
Into its depths we explore 
Disguised by woodland 
Fabricated sensation of saftey

Into the distance 
Smoke ruptures from a shack 
A decrepit tall man 
Hums folk songs unacompanied 
Insightful tales told 
Bizarre concepts 

Before our departure 
These words were said 
"Uncertainties are enevadable, find comfort in the song birds for their melody clears the head"

Copyright © Brooke Brock | Year Posted 2017

Details | Couplet |

What Do Birds Like


Do little birdies like their bread crumbs hard or soft?
Are you for flippin’ real - I hear you all begin to scoff

But hey - I chopped the un-cut loaf into small blocks
Then stuck it in the blender - dried it till hard as rock

I threw it all in the garden - thinking I was being neat
Till I saw the little birdies the bread they wouldn’t eat

So I did the same the next day without it being dried 
The little birdies ate the soft bread crumbs I so spied

There you have it folks birdies like their crumbs fresh
Nice and soft - and when the loaf - is at its very best 

Fussy little critters . . . 

Indiana Shaw . . . ; )

Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2017