Best Beak Poems

A tiny yellow bird, tiny beak,
Sits on a tiny branch
Of a big green tree,
Taps its feet, chirps, hops,
joyful, playful, circles around,
Lands on the deck post,
Agitated,...

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Love is an impulse fueled by the heart,
A stimulating prompt eliciting response
Invoking affinity from halo of its soul~
Sense it, feel it, touching depth of core;
Harmonious,...

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12 BARS

Twelve  brazen bars, one frozen lock!
Confined, sublime, an ancient Roc
endures inside a barren cage,
her catacomb in sundown sage.

Of former days there is no...

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Today I will be happy,
Happy all day long.
I won't think about my problems.
I'll fill this day with song.

I won't worry about world affairs,
Or ask the...

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I recognize a tune from album of your songs
And listen intently to impressionist sounds
As you hop scotch from branch to branch
Like a child all excited,...

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Perhaps in time, I’ll know hereby
When in deep sundown and the rain
 A nightingale brown tweets my pain;
In lone tempo, its forlorn cry.

This warbler perches...

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 *
*Bald*
*eagle *
*bird of prey,*
*lives in the wild*
*of remote country,*
*they have powerful wings,*
*razor sharp beak and talons,*
*can soar up to ten thousand feet,*
*adopted by ...

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Swans so gracefully gliding o'er lake
Delightful scenery they create 
Dressed all in white feather finery
True beauties of the lake dynasty.

Falling in love with love forever
Swan...

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Try opening your ears and shutting your beak
You never listen, incessantly you shriek

So now that my claw has stifled your chatter
I’ll give it to you...

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"Notes on a Wrist" 

the pulse felt
under nibs
of fingertips
translates a life

the semicolan
stretches like 
the devil
hungers 

it can 
wait a long time
eternally feeding you
drip by drip

ever...

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I hunt my prey, late dusk or night
     With wings so quiet in my flight
It's hard to see me up in...

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Do come, my love, for I insist!
Within the darkest crevices of time, we fight, we cry, I die
As vision gives us knowledge, we descend farther...

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A gentle hush fell over the pond
The crickets ceased their evening song
Many jewel-toned feathers circled and flew
And perched as tonight's "Idol" audience grew

Poor little bird...

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A parrot sits on my shoulder.
Unlike those that squawk, mine tends to whine.
When she is in the mood,
she moans and moans and moans.
No Polly-Anna Parrot...

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