Best Chirrup Poems
Oh, the forest whispers to me,
as stained leaves on the ground crinkle;
and birds chirp and trill in a tree,
but too soon those leaves will wrinkle.
As I walk the wind groans and moans,
oh, the forest whispers to me;
soon the branches will be bare bones,
the crows cawing is like a plea.
Squirrels chirrup running with glee,
through the leaves that swirl, twirl and dance;
oh, the forest whispers to me,
the beauty puts me in a trance.
A stream that gurgles and thunders,
and ducks still quack and float carefree;
so many sweet scenes and wonders,
oh, the forest whispers to me.
_______________________
October 16, 2021
Poetry/Quatern/ The Stained Glass Forest
Copyright Protected, ID-10-1397-695-16
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Onomatopoeia
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 11/13/2021
Fourth Place
Poem of the Day October 18, 2021
Crackling of clouds, zigzag of light.
Puzzling the parks, jigsaw of sight.
A Summer storm, finding a spark.
Darkness of green and humid bark.
Adventure’s out, it’s boredom’s hymn.
Travel stories filled to the brim.
Not quite exciting as an ark -
Darkness of green and humid bark.
Balloons looming, red, white, and blue.
Will this cutout give me a clue?
Birds don’t chirrup, outside is stark.
Darkness of green and humid bark.
Little by little filling day.
Scrutinizing pieces in play.
Too quiet, whistling for lark.
Darkness of green and humid bark.
These fingers and eyes sharp’ning skill.
My adrenaline needs refill.
Need to find, national landmark,
Darkness of green and humid bark.
we wake up at the crack of dawn
to view the gold sun rise
it’s a glorious sunny morn
let’s wander over verdant hills
crossing the patchwork fields
of vibrant xanthic daffodils
and watch them dance on zephyr breeze
their golden trumpets sound
as blackbirds chirrup in the trees
after a hike we’ll stop and rest
and gaze at the blue sea
our nature rambles are the best!
Writing Challenge - Tercets - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance la France
10/16/20
A trickle of water,
A sound of peace,
The stream flies by,
Gallons at a time,
Through the near-silent dark,
The sun is almost at rest,
The moon but a crescent,
Shades of purple,
Shining across the fields,
The ice is slick,
As the temperature drops,
Crickets begin to chirrup,
The bird's song is no more,
The sky is quiet,
Except for the occasional,
Melody of a bat,
A breeze to cool the trees,
Is a song the leaves will dance to,
As children go to bed,
The owls awake to play,
Scouting for their breakfast,
As day's end is their morning,
The mice scurrying the ground,
Animals nocturnal,
Awake to join the party,
Time seems to move slowly,
Whereas,
For the sleeping,
Time is flying,
In fact,
To the sleeping,
It is already morning!
Come, my love, let's unfetter and glide high,
Your hues leave me breathless, to feel your breath I long;
My dreamy dotted wings, with you, yearns to fly,
And to chirrup in tune with your lilting love song.
Your hues leave me breathless, to feel your breath I long,
As I creep up on you and kiss you sweetheart;
And to chirrup in tune with your lilting love song,
I crave to be caged forever in your heart.
As I creep up on you and kiss you sweetheart,
My dreamy dotted wings, with you, yearns to fly;
I crave to be caged forever in your heart,
Come, my love, let's unfetter and glide high.
Date: 06/07/2021
Pantoum Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Number of the photo: 2
Nature beckons me with its charm ~
trees waving in the wind
wish me good morning from their farm;
birds chirrup, their music plays on,
young ones squeak in response,
I love hearing these sounds at dawn;
honeybees, butterflies float by,
busy waking flowers,
I watch them with a content sigh,
buds open up their little heads,
sun rays smile at dewdrops,
charming me as morn's splendour spreads.
10.16.2020
For Constance La France's "Writing challenge - Tercets" contest
Twinkle, twinkle little tweets
In the trees, not treading streets
Just one chirp, from each true bird
Each dawning day, thus feathers stirred
Twinkle, twinkle little tweets
Faithfully, the morning greets
Twinkle, twinkle, under sky
From loft branch, trills flutter-fly
Bright heralds do bring choice cheer
Expectation to my ear
Twinkle, twinkle, under sky
As sun dips, birds chirrup bye
one drowsy day’s afternoon
by a pond where green leafy reeds swaying in a breeze
the sun enjoys a nap enveloped in a halo, the own glory
on the gentle weaves
a water strider gliding on the water with his long legs;
on a reed leaf a dragonfly sat atop of it and puts the pieces of broken sky
into his eyes larger than the sky to draw a picture of complete sky
the shirr chirrup of a cicada carried by the wind comes by the pond
searching a shade of a tree, but when he couldn’t find a one other than
the slender reeds stand by the everything-standstill pond, flies away grumbling
“no matter how desperate i am, i cannot sing a song hanging on a petty reed!
it’s an insult, it’s a disgrace to my reputation”
then the time, i wonder what’s made him so happy,
attired with all colorful patches of silk pieces garment
comes whistling and wanders in the fields and mountains
that is covered only a color of deep green; and dyes it with
spray of all imaginable colors you can think of:
before being sprayed colors were dry
a hotheaded wind makes an abrupt appearance,
letting colorful leaves ahead of him to raise a fuss
once again in the woods calm and peaceful
surprised by the commotion the birds fly away,
the crickets fill up a vacancy and collect leaves named decay
in the wood; tossing ashes after burning them in the lowly hanging
evening glow and long night’s chilling air
and as chilling air becomes dew the crickets wail forth dirges
followed by the lonely reeds cry, then the season stained with
so many mixed emotions drift away with the cloud;
and as the night deepens the stars fall,
the moonlight reflecting on the water glimmers,
a piece of wind torn by the wind behind goes
stepping on the mountainside path lifting a fluttering funeral streamer
how slowly fade the softest sounds
when tiny footsteps touch secret pathways
pattering there in the dreaming wilderness
as small birds perch and brightly flicker
winning haven to haven shy among the leaves
still fresh with rain as they chatter and chirrup
seeming wingless they endear the mystic tide
while young ears gather the notes like crumbs
storing each for a quiet winter free at play
with eyes that sparkle moment to moment
indelible as the dawn upon the starry night
bringing memory from the edge of light
to be alive in our hearts like ripples
or wavelets warmed by the sun at idyll
Beautiful Eos, goddess of dawn
Cursed to love a man like me.
How could I not be drawn
To your luminous beauty?
So I, Tithonus, Prince of Troy,
Plucked the fruit from heaven's sky.
A mortal man who would enjoy
Heaven's bliss with Dawn to lie.
My only love, I did beseech
Grant this man immortality.
Beware for what you reach
Can love last for all eternity?
In granting my wish dear heart,
Eternal youth goes hand in hand.
You did forget this crucial part
Now I grow older you understand.
What use is this immortality
If you are old and weak and frail?
I beg dear heart, set me free
Let my boat to Hades sail.
For I cannot live nor can I die
My love this is so improper.
Wipe the tears from your eye
Change me into a grasshopper.
In the early morn I chirrup to you
Goddess of dawn, my lovely wife.
You are the perfect drop of dew
On the fragile petals of my life.
I do not waltz, betwixt this sound,
I cannot descry, your whispered amulet,
Hexed by silence, still I hear your lament,
as other birds chirrup, they too can imagine,
along these osculate words...
I try, to listen to the bells, sedulous nihility,
I want Mozart in my mind, I yell, demused,
I missed my train, another consortium delayed,
From Elysian fields, you call and call again...
Somehow, your words seem true to me,
Sometimes, you know, but you don't hear me,
Someway, the hindrance of my earthly epistles:
The painful, sly and poignant, missive envisage,
docile tones of your tongue, conducts satiny notes,
Palpable facial expressions, lead me on and on,
and the violin of my waltz,
sustains my love,
forevermore....
Cerulean blue on blue, the sky is in the lake,
In a season of windswept clouds, sun baked,
At yellow hilltop cottage, a chirrup outbreak,
Red flowers line its winding path, no mistake!
The prince of noon and queen of blooms meet,
In red and golden splendor, a fragrance treat!
Green is everywhere, with the colors candied,
But red rose emerges, with its own mystique!
A series of cheeping notes
followed by chatter calls
welcoming a sunny spring morning
In the afternoon, the sky turns black
twilight of sun orange shades
heavy hail falling from the heaven
winds screaming in its gale force
Quivering feathers, wet and drenched
blanketing a monotonous chirrup
finding shelter under leaves
Arising smell of the heavenly primrose
lavenders the air dewdrops upon rose gold
In a chain of daisies warmly circles
In the sunlight of spring births
An effervescent voice cuts through
the parting dark clouds joining in
the long bubbling churrs of a song
Flower of all flowers, my garden Queen
When I pick you as my rose
Every color in you beautiful
Blooming red blushes pink crowning petals
Scepter of stellar beauty
Newborn flowers dance to the rays
Carnations shade the color of your chalice
A glance that holds a thousand in a split of a second
A Collaborated Poem with Liam McDaid
Copyrighted 2016
Oh! Now you and me are separated,
And I really anxiously waited
For a momentous news from your side
Innocent ones, are you happy and alright?
For a month, your chirrup I haven't heard,
Oh my friends, my sparrows, my birds!
For now so addicted are my ears,
To your melodious voice my dears
That I enjoyed when we were together;
And when I enjoyed the beauty of your fluffy feathers
And now my ears aren't getting solace;
And my eyes again want to see your cute face
Now, I realize with a sigh,
Those are just memories, my
Dears. Friends, you know food grains can't remain for long;
Come quickly and take the pigeons along
Stay you lovely faces in my little heart,
Oh have pity on my soul, my true part
Life gives separation, one day or the other,
Will I be bold enough to face another?
Silence has two sides and around me negative is there;
How I wish for the other side which is pure and fair!
Now I act like one who's gone mad,
Now my happy colours are getting fade
For now separated are me and you
I hope it'll be fulfilled, my dream so new
We exist for each other
You can describe pain
Once you’re out of its
Singular bout.
In pursuit of outstretching its arms
Time swooped away a soul
Leaving behind in its swingeing saunter
Crumpled shadow of vulnerability
In a pair of avian eyes
Swooning further already fragile tone
In its gullet.
Whether incessant tremulous chatter
Calling perhaps the vanished mate
(As blaming circumstances and even
Mourning over the dead didn’t spell
In its utterance)
Could tremble the alleys
Otherwise welled up with bustle of erections
And boughs of clamorous chirrup
Over dried up grass in its beak
You can assume of!
Nature enticingly lures up
Existence doesn’t seem to approve, though
The entity we fondly call pair.
In its silky promise of welding together
Love renders on utterly alone.
In resolute yet tender grip
Of trust in life
Under obvious yet intangible
Compassion’s shadowy solace
The lugubrious call then
Flipped over your flitting absence.
Having delved its head
Into its own soothing wing feathers
Time sleeps on your writing table.
You can see living make
Devout destination for a being
To adapt to,
Yet you are oblivious of
One’s fear in losing it,
Poet, why!