Best Redbirds Poems
peach is on the rose
since orange sun shines so bright
earth's bathed in warm light
redbirds are singing
of yellow saffron summer
near garden stunners
sapphires in the sky
vagrant clouds have gone missing
gold fields glistening
sunshine rose fragrance
colors and green everywhere
butterflies in air
In shadows of blue
clouds slow dance across the skies
Tender sunlight dream
follows mute, chronic drifters
round and round the blooming world
O'er shady forests
desert flowers and green seas
blithe homes and fast cars
Greeting fields of lavender
and redbirds of tomorrow
The cottage near the wood is crowded in blooms,
Its creamy facade is enlivened with many hues;
And large vases of flowers grace several rooms.
Joy throughout the days with the delicate fumes,
and legendary exotic, natural splendor issues.
The cottage near the wood is crowded in blooms.
Redbirds sing gold sunshine, or of pearly moons,
Nature creates beautiful at the merest excuse,
And large vases of flowers grace several rooms.
Summer appears early, in all the mellow Junes.
Blue and mauve butterflies flit floral avenues.
The cottage near the wood is crowded in blooms.
In such lively colors, encroaching beauty looms,
Green scenes in each window, sunshine suffused,
And large vases of flowers grace several rooms.
All the endless days bold tangerine sun looms,
and rabbits and the bees gather woodland news.
The cottage near the wood is crowded in blooms;
And large vases of flowers grace several rooms
I was an inscrutable, capricious mystery writer, like a pure mystery of days;
And I had composed best selling novels, like westering sun's scarlet phase.
An unparalleled passion for writing, had for quite long been the motivation,
Behind novels which captured hearts, like pink clouds, drifting in formation.
My office desk faced the picture window, near the border of riotous blooms;
And sunny views enriched often eager eyes, owing to birds of many plumes.
Friends were a forever force in my life, like the natural floods of floundering,
Or as sun and moon meet in an eclipse, darkening heyday, with no warning.
Fairy-like forests, and fields of colored flowers, flamed with furious abandon,
Frequently, as fulgent family found one, to dazzle brighter than amber sun!
I lived in the house of mist mysteries, in haze shrouded, mighty mountains;
And each cherry dawn doled surprises, like roving redbirds in the thousands.
So sleepy in sun-drenched summer, my silent street was stained with hues,
In new modern, stylish, songbird days, like a gold treasure you cannot lose.
Neighbors would navigate narcissistic night, bearing an apple pie, or a joke;
Sharing fun and noisy laughter, like a blue undersea volcano, magma awoke.
Birds swept peaks of sculpted, stunning mountains, in the hot, daisy season,
And sky and the earth merged twice a day, in affinity hues of love cohesion.
The naked man orchid shivered with breezes, like quivery trees of November,
And Johnny Jump Up puckered at lemon sun, like a sour taste remembered.
In a sapphire sea near the mountains, a friend and I set out sailing one day,
As a youth follows wildest, golden dreams. Yet, heavy fog descended to stay.
Were we heading for wide open water, or drifting to shores of purple flowers?
That danger held a lovely mystery, like adventure during the nighttime hours.
Hour after rosy hour, we were drifting blind. Our motor had long since died;
Like green butterflies, questing for hours, in a place pink daisies lately cried.
We were afraid of being lost forever, so Pearl and I joined hands and prayed,
Also praying for our downhearted families, if fate's hand would not be stayed.
After many anxious, vagrant moments, a foghorn sounded, loud and so near;
Our desperate prayers were answered, by the voice of our Savior, very dear!
Solid gray skies
Over daylilies trying to bloom
Several different species so colorful
Open only a day, live life to the fullest
What have I done with my nearly 29,151 days
Birds fly in
Mostly to feed from birdseeds
The feeders need a refill so they can eat
Those birds usually fly in, overfill before a rain
Another day of possible showers so they have to eat
Fresh seed put out
Mockingbirds zoom across flowerbeds
Land, catch a bug, zoom out
Another mockingbird lands on the cement
Bobbles along like a roadrunner
Redbirds flock in
Hit the red feeder that matches his color, perfect camouflage
Boy, he is eating gourmet food
From the buffet
Rakes out what he doesn't like
Sparrows fly in
Feast upon the discarded seed
That landed upon the cement
They gobble up those small seeds
Fill up in just a small amount of time
Female red cardinal
Flies in and lands on a wood feeder, aged, grayed with time
It seems to match her color perfectly
She is harder to see since she blends in
She fills up and flies away
Amazing
No susurrus in the pines
No crows cawing all the time
Just the symphony of songbirds tickling my ears
And the cymbals clanging out woodpecker's notes
A few minutes out on the porch
How it makes my day
Now a zephyr begins to move
Stirring the asparagus and spirea
Wow! A break in the clouds.
The sunlight beams
Casting its morning light
Across my wildest dreams
A flower garden with more plants
To feed the birds, bees and butterflies
Thank you
God for your creation
For your gift of flowers
A mixture of clouds, rain and sunshine
All of life upon this earth
Bright sunshine dappled
at the gay affair,
in a park so green.
There was revelry,
laughter, food and dance,
and at times romance.
The blooms blazed colors,
lit up by the sun.
The happy children
chased the hued balloons.
Ice cream, cookout, fun-
and sun, sun, sun, sun!
The dogs chased frisbees,
and the babies crawled
in grass very green.
Gliding on sunshine,
redbirds sang amour,
and the festival
went on into night!
Then fireworks lit skies,
like the sunshine as
it is departing,
to close one more day!
Written on 4/8/2021
For: Anacreontic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
The smell of hot dogs, fresh grass, and stale beer
A constant dull drone from the Bleacher Bums
“Take Me out to the Ball Game”, sung aloud
Infield raking dust, by busy grounds crews
Seventh inning stretch at old Wrigley Field
Ivy covered walls, with a losing streak
Uniforms with faces of baby bears
The rival redbirds are taking the field
Cub fans begin to return to their seats
Fresh from a line to relief and last call
A solid round of boos from the bleachers
The batter warms in the on deck circle
At times, there is no better place to be
Chicago on a hot sunny day, free
© Copyrights G. Jones, 2008
The warm evening breeze
Caresses my skin as I sit
Beneath the old garden elm.
The chatter of birds echoes
Through the trees as they perform
Their spring mating ritual.
Redbirds, mocking-jays, and hummers
Scurry from limb to limb, jealously
Chasing foe from new-found lovers.
Enjoying the serious antics,
I hear the voice of the mourning dove
Calling its forever mate in the distance.
My thoughts turn to my own mate.
No longer within my sight
I remember your every detail as last seen.
You have left me as a bird in winter:
Sure to return to this nest
As time marches slowly,
And yet I ponder the burning question
Weighing upon my soul.
"Did you take out the trash, Dear?"
Mary Davis dwelled on a fruit farm, adoring the company of animals.
Most beloved was sociable Sam, who made her giggle, like bubbles!
Whereas Mary was seven-years-old, Sam, her lamb, was still a baby,
Given to Mary by best neighbors, when they played in orange daisies.
Sam's white fleece was soft and fluffy, like a mound of feather pillows;
Like clouds of endless, turquoise skies, blown by breezes, into billows.
Sweet-natured Sam and Mary's bond, was special. Soon inseperable!
As one, they chased sun; like heaven seen, through rainbow's portal.
Friends found fanciful, skipping Mary, in the far-out days of fabulous,
Under butterscotch sun of fascination, soon cherry red, as an amulet.
Fabled days told a faceted story of time, in faddish phases of flowers;
As family finished delaying finally, visiting dreamy, dusk's lemon sours.
Sam was usually someplace to be seen, but sometimes he wandered;
And Mary sought him out-like privacy loving night, soon squandered.
The 'sapphire tower' bore rich blooms, as 'zebrina lifesaver' remedied;
And 'sundrops primroses' were lingering, as the silken breeze hurried.
'Bee passion' blooms generated hysteria, with the fragrance of fairies;
As summer saluted lovely 'queen's tears.' Some nomads never marry!
Mary was feeling ill one day. It soon passed, but she was late to class.
It grew later, as she looked for steady, silent Sam, in tall, green grass.
Sam was nowhere about, though they always walked to school together.
Soon worried Mary found the school in uproar, like redbirds of a feather!
Sam was running from the teacher, in the classroom of much disarray;
As the children screamed with laughter, loving the opportunity to play!
Laughing herself, Mary coaxed Sam over. Glad to find her, Sam obeyed.
The chuckling teacher allowed Mary to take him home, where he stayed.
That day became a topic of legend and lore. A song was written about it.
It soon grew old and beloved, like a starbound comet, swift as a rocket!
'Mary had a little lamb;
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.'
Sunshine grows men on ropes
Similar with metaphors and similes
And cold plastic smiles.
Slim, shiny, at first slimy, Then…
Then mass produced body index
Fat and hypertension deficit syndrome-o-matic.
Failure due to faulty, underfunded, cheap union labor parts.
Broken and glued
taped back
to the semi-flaccid meat bag’s parts
Ad nauseam,
But worth regurgitating
for the sake of curiosity’s infinite lives.
Will you spare a tired old man a dozen redbirds?
All dead and empty.
Ad nauseam.
Entering ourselves head first, strong
Into the green-blue gluttonous mausoleum nausoleum
With fancy golden embryo.
Embryo cold ,
with teeth chattering loose,
Broken from gnawing the misconceived development
Of a prenatal worm-child.
The background was aforementioned “Thus”.
Inter-missionary positions
on all seeing eyed pyramids
Connect myriads of the labyrinth.
Run for cover before the light breaks the shadow fault line
Of what is right and what is written
Because I can’t bear to tell you what is wrong.
Sunshine grows ropes on men
different from the same old, same old.
Mad at the world because like opinions and ideas and optimism
And a general surety of a done deal.
Nothing is relative to Uncle Certain.
Just Aunt Be.
Hollow minds can only feed hollow stomachs
From the, “Why did they even come here?”
Go back home to your party fanciful.
If you think it’s you then why are you still here
Under the tree that shades us from falling
Birthmark razorblade sweet tarts.
It all starts over and over.
Lucy Locket lived amidst Lakeland Hills, where jay serenaded morning;
Like plum rainbows celebrate sunshine, with never any silent warning.
Lucy was merely twenty years old, like a peach rose, dusted with dew;
And she was also a dutiful teacher, unveiling what children never knew.
Lucy liked to sew and to garden, like green nature, roving everywhere,
Recalling lavish, sunset skies we used to view, in the colors of vanity fair.
Kitty Fisher was Lucy's best friend, amidst many, for she was popular;
Like finches are popular in floriated summer, creating gladness, ocular.
Fancy emerald nature wore fun, fantasy makeup, in its faceted colors;
And unfaltering family flattered fall with visits, beloved like no others.
Kitty lived in the house of very ordinary, like cherry redbirds singing;
Where silver moments comprised golden hours, jeweled time ringing.
Summer snapdragons grew quite lovely, on her sparkling street of sun;
And scarlet maples smiled colors, until the smoky season left, sudden.
Nepalese neighbors narrated tales of sweet nation, at mulberry night,
When nectarous, naval oranges hung ripely, under moon, satiny white.
Purple ranunculus blooms resembled roses, when sunrise echoed dusk;
And 'Marimo Moss Balls' played water polo, while jasmine trailed musk.
Giant water lilies ruled placid lakes, giving rise to titanic, pink blooms;
As golden sun and calm moon vie for dominion, inside separate rooms.
Lucy and Kitty went to a lecture, in a lavish, lavender evening of larks.
The lively, literary topic was much enjoyed, like the sun's dying sparks.
Afterwards, Kitty and Lucy parted, each to their own welcoming home;
Like a green bird of turquoise skies, oft makes its nostalgic way, alone.
Later, Lucy discovered her pocket was missing, its location so unknown,
Like red streaks of gold time, ever fleeing, past a blue, marble milestone.
Next day dawned golden, and Lucy's pocket, she found on her doorstep.
Golden coins were tied to its ribbon. And at Kitty's note, her heart leapt!
For it was Lucy's sparkling, glad birthday, as devoted friends remember;
And Kitty had made it one of her best, like hued leaf nights of November.
'Lucy Locket lost her pocket,
Kitty Fisher found it;
Not a penny was there in it,
Only ribbon round it.'
At the pretty park, the amber sun was shining,
As I sat among the orange blooms of the June,
Berry blue sky and lake looked to be entwining,
As sunset paused, in its hued, dreamy cocoon.
Joyfully, I watched redbirds and butterflies play,
In one of life's flawless, spontaneous moments,
Myriad and lovely, coming once, and going away.
Allowing to memory hence, precious fragments.
dropped and forgotten
his small friend has run away
hot sun buttercups
teddy is waiting
for however long it takes
for nighttime cuddles
redbirds sing of love
in the hour of orange heat
teddy bear in blooms
Soul mates that would give
Power to the one they join
Love beneath the scorn
One will truly live
Heads on both sides of the coin
Changelessness reborn
Nature nurtures blooms and blushes
With redbirds, bluebonnets, and bulrushes
And peacock-curtained cirrus evening skies;
That unveil a Milky seine before our eyes,
Alluring our awed admiration
With magnetic, majestic fascination;
Easily eliciting an emancipation
To unparalleled faux freedom;
Fostering fleet-flying feelings;
Sending stunned senses soaring
Inevitably inducing intoxication
Which connects our inebriated emotions
That persuade our treasured, deeply hidden internals
Into exaltation of the high supernal.
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