Best Goshawk Poems | Poetry
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The Best Goshawk Poems
How beautiful the sounds, sights of nature
In the distance alarm call of a cuckoo,
beautiful sound of summer Tanager
Blackbirds hopping around getting in a stew,
Acrobatics of swallows, swifts, Martins,
Crows of the carrion, rooks, jackdaws, Raven
Cooing of turtle doves and wood pigeons,
Chittering robin, eyes closed what heaven,
Finches so sweet, green, bull, haw, gold and more
Speedy blue, great, coal, willow and marsh tits,
nature is such a pleasure never a chore ,
Seeing these wonderful birds thrills two bits
Serenity while watching our game bird
Pheasant, partridge, grouse, geese and mallard duck
Graceful swans glide, sights and sounds must be heard
Wading birds sifting for food through silt and muck,
birds of prey, kestrel, sparrow hawk, Peregrine
Eagles, buzzards, goshawk, ospreys skilful hunters
Larks hovering, lap wings, owls, magpies so pristine,
Sea birds, waders, hunters, lovely colours,
These moments of relaxation, undisturbed
listening, watching our beautiful wild birds.
Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2016
In the Druid tradition an inspired Bard was said to possess "bird's knowledge." Druid shamans would dress in cloaks of bird feathers to perform certain ceremonies, and divination would be practiced by observing the flight of birds. In trance, the Druid would enlist the aid of his bird spirit-ally to fly to other realms, or would transform himself into a bird on the inner planes to accomplish a certain task. Each type of bird represents different qualities, evokes different experiences, and has different gifts for the Druid: the eagle brings renewal, the wren humility, the swan grace, the raven initiation. The hawk, whether kite, harrier, merlin, goshawk, or sparrowhawk, can give nobility and stature, dignity and pride. I once heard that a Cherokee shaman had to turn into a hummingbird in order to find the lost tobacco seed, in their mythology, it was brought to them by the hummingbird.
Copyright © White Wolf | Year Posted 2016
What energy conscious acolyte sucks a pickled grapefruit at midnight?
"Certainly not me" said the sparrow. "Nor me" said the goshawk.
Key turning stomach pumping missiles arrowhead forming stalactites. Interesting to note how a single bead of sweat talks to a fountain forehead in a spine spin.
And yet again to traverse a mattress at over fifty seconds an hour is to pass over the goo like passing bread and butter at a tea party.
Shrine shrinking shoreline.
In a cup of ladled milk with slices of sandy salmon to top with a crust.
X =Inconsequentially + Z
Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2017