Bird Holiday Poems | Bird Poems About Holiday
These Bird Holiday poems are examples of Bird poems about Holiday. These are the best examples of Bird Holiday poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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I don’t know what I’m complaining about,
it’s not like I’ve been cuffed,
All I have to do is show up for dinner.
After all it’s the bird that got stuffed.
It’s not like they’re asking a lot from me
they won’t work me till I’ve croaked,
All I have to do is show up and eat.
After all it’s the bird that got smoked.
I can’t tell you that they’ll torture me
and it seems to be reasonably priced,
All I have to do is visit for a while.
After all it’s the bird that got sliced.
I could tell them things to make them laugh
until their gravy becomes splattered,
All I’d have to do is tell a joke to them.
After all it’s the bird that got plattered.
I think that it smells good enough that I’ll eat
until they claim my leg’s been hollowed,
All I have to do is not complain about things.
After all it’s the bird that got swallowed.
I’ve never given it much thought before
but a bird’s life is really kind of murky
I guess I’d rather be the Thanksgiving guest today
than be the Thanksgiving Turkey.
Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011
I feel a blockage has occurred...
It must have been all that stuffing and Turkey bird...
The gurgles, the rumbling, the passing of gas...
It’s beyond my control ,Oh dear, please let this pass...
We have guests you see...
So I don’t have the privilege to just get up and flee...
No one should ever be in this state...
And I should never have put so much on my plate...
Cause now I’m paying and to my demise ...
The rite of passage has been denied...
I feel like I may blow up and explode...
It’s times like this when you miss the commode...
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013
baseball, bird, change, childhood, games, holiday, lost,
“Seasonal Walks in the Park!”
A walk in the park after a springtime morning rainfall
Is to hear the droplets fall from bent branches overhead
That can shock and moisten one’s brow walking below
And make note on the many water stains spotting the lanes
The grasses have turned into rich shiny green blades
Water drops remaining give individual blades sparkle
And soon the lawns will need to be mowed often
And made and kept ready for park picnics and games
The dissolving clouds open gaps for sun rays piercings
Adding sunbeam warmth down on upturned faces
The sun-warm breezes will temp visitors to carry their coats
And others perhaps persuaded in removing their shoes and socks
Some will have their feet dampened on the grass from droplets of dew
As they venture and tread about the newly showered lawns
The blades of grass will squeak when running shoes tramp through
And if recently cut than grass blades will stick between bared toes
Spring’s love potion is inhaled and felt by all touring about
Seasoning desires for familiarity towards the fairer sex
From past haunts of pleasantly spent park delights
Where wooing couples will be affected to a time stand still
The early morning rainbow has faded and day’s clear skies are imminent
The air fresh from receding mists mingle heavenly and tweak the nose
Dew worms break through and inch their way along above ground
Turning out from under the now soft rain moistened soil
This stirs the well-known smell of earth worms movements
And birds sing out invitations for all to join in this feed
Mother birds will return and hungry hatchlings will have first kills
And fathers will be released then of their nest guard duties for this share
All daytime and nighttime visitors will become love-struck
In their search for springtime’s romancing love calls to one another
The park comes awake to the frenzy and welcomes young and old
To meet, greet, and form new and old friendships offered all around
The park's excitement is truly felt when a love-knot becomes first tied
Crawling babies born from previous spring time passions will be noted
They will learn the high-step toddle soon enough bringing them to romp
Once they have experienced that first feel of having to crawl on prickly grass
Young voices are heard mingling along with loud hand claps
All friendly ‘high-fives’ are brandied about within the new met groups
This is an all- time game ritual passed between friendships bonding
All this showmanship will form new team players for ball-park games
The ice-rink’s wooden forms are being removed and taken away for another year
Memories of skating parties last held are brought to surface
The recall of being half frozen and then thawed
When invited to sip a mug of hot chocolate steaming and full-bodied
A freshly painted baseball diamond will replace the rink area now
This ball field will bring many ball park players to home-plate
While proving to others they are ‘out of bounds’
Their devotion to play after school and during holidays is well kept
The flapping and snapping of new kites sound overhead
Straining their ties against the cruel breezes putting them down
Watchers walking about are made to feel free
The breezes jostle skirt and pant legs to tease about
Children are held clasped in grown-up hands to hold them fast
Their first walk about in the park has been a long time put on hold
Even the elderly are childlike and have a bounce given to their step
Walking around the park’s perimeter evolves a lifetime’s returning event
A seasonal change brings about new and different facades to the parkland
And they never fail to have a special allure to draw all outdoors
No matter what the weather call that day or night will bring
Walkers are in want of fresh-air walks found in the park grounds
And dogs always have to reacquaint themselves to the lay of the parkland
Their bones need burying for great hunts in all seasons to become lost and found
They love to leave their markings on pure white snow banks as calling cards
The park sees all and sees to all that visit and never will tell tales of any kind!
Copyright © Diane M Quinlan | Year Posted 2015
He raises his charmed-horn frost-cup filled to the brim with warrior-sweat of a thousands fallen wineberry Hail to the spoils and plunder Hail to burning friends and Thor’s thunder To ravens who gather the ones in wonder Eric’s the reds white-headed swan of blood and blood-bearded-gobbler may one give us free in all are Things and in our bowls meats of thanks-giving Carving the turkey with his sharp-rail-of beheading whacking a leg and then the other small talk and etiquette flew out the proverbial minds-eye But uncle Bob fit right in chasing his wine with gin
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2015
What i love
About Christmas time
Is a leggy bird
And a vintage wine
With succulent breasts
And a figure so tanned
When i wash my hands
She'll soon be manned
She's the type of bird
Who leaves me well fed
With a glass of wine
I'm ready for bed
But this little bird
Can sure last longer
For she double serves
And my hungry heart grows fonder
At my table she sits
As my hands delight
She has my admiration
This delicious bird on Christmas Day
Is natures Turkey, a delight I'll say
And just before we sit down to eat
We are incredibly thank full, for such a treat
My entry for Donna Golden's contest " Turkey Tribute "
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009
After the long slow drive
on the wet runway,
we glided into the air
where fields of cotton
enclosed the movement
of the large plane.
We bumped onto white
floating beyond mundanity,
with the trembling clouds
beneath us and the noisy
engine forming a foam bath,
as we flew across Europe.
Our holiday began
on fragile ground,
away from the tyranny
of the familiar where
most of our time is spent.
Copyright © Mary Guckian | Year Posted 2017
King of countless holiday tables
The turkey so golden brown.
His reign in short but succulent,
Proudly wearing his cranberry crown.
Not given human knowledge
He has no conscious fear.
Of life cut short by celebrations
On these days we hold so dear.
Now sit down with full appreciation
For a simple bird that gave his all,
And hope that he had time to procreate
So next year..more turkeys in the fall.
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2009
In geometric skein they flew,
Off the geese, to pastures new.
Copyright © Gary Smith | Year Posted 2017