Best Seagulls Poems
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
Greeting new sun, spanning over vast sea
Wailing upon hills, watching freedom shine
Sprinkling over prairies echoes of glee
Greeting new sun, spanning over vast sea
Sailing air on pointed bills and webbed feet
Sprinkling over prairies echoes of glee
Grabbing fish, hunting crabs, feasting on treat
Sailing air on pointed bills and webbed feet
Circling green oceans, conquering blue sky
Grabbing fish, hunting crabs, feasting on treat
Reigning winds, above the cliffs, thrusting high
Circling green oceans, conquering blue sky
Traversing sunlit designs, boasting zest
Reigning winds, above the cliffs, thrusting high
Flaunting flexing wings of enchanting quest
Traversing sunlit designs, boasting zest
Glancing marigold scenes on amber arc
Flaunting flexing wings of enchanting quest
Eyeing gilded tides where golden rays spark
Glancing marigold scenes on amber arc
Wailing upon hills, watching freedom shine
Eyeing gilded tides where golden rays spark
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
December 10, 2019
Placed first: Seagulls poetry contest; Sponsor: Eve Roper
Ten syllables per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Placed 2nd: Strand special 9 by Brian Strand
Placed 2nd: Your best December poem poetry contest by John Hamilton
The sea gulls down at Barry aren’t your average little pests
They think they own the sea side and the all wear hooded vests
Their beaks are pierced with hoops and studs and drink from cans of bud .
Beady eyes watch picnics
They truly are such thugs
And if you purchase chips from the shop behind the beach
don’t believe you can relax with those tasty scrumptious treats
They’ll watch you exchange money with hungry look upon your face
then hunt you down and rob you with their spray cans full of mace
Dive-bombing little children is their favourite thing to do
then you think they’ve gone but you’d be wrong when they shower you with poo
These antisocial birdies are quite partial to an ale
they really do belong down in Barry Island jail
So be warned these birds are dangerous
Theres no stopping them you know
With their gang tattoos and leathers
Wearing boots with steal capped toes.
You can tell that they mean business and with a welsh sarcastic twang
they bully staff and customers at the local Ice cream van
So pack yourself protection
A helmet and a sword
A shield , a coat of armour
Bring all you can afford
Apart from that it’s glorious
A lovely golden beach
But I wouldn’t risk a smile if you’re wearing your false teeth
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
fussy squawking
seagulls talking...
Waddle walking
pavement patter-
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
Birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
Angry fussing
birds discussing
seagull cussing
“Hey, I want some!”
birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
I, a salty scarecrow, roam the shoreline
The moon melts soft like butter on the reach
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
While dropping clams to split upon the beach
The moon melts soft like butter on the reach
Thus drizzling heaven's hem with Hollandaise
While dropping clams to split upon the beach
The giggling gulls high-dive the dawning haze
Thus drizzling heaven's hem with Hollandaise
The bisque horizon christens bright, the morn
The giggling gulls high-dive the dawning haze
Oh such as this, should all good days be born
The bisque horizon christens bright, the morn
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
Oh such as this, should all good days be born
I, a salty scarecrow ... roam the shoreline.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Seagulls" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Judge & Sponsor.
Required line: "Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine"
( Syllables = 10 per line, counted at HowManySyllables.com )
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine,
They are indeed a lovely sight to see.
No ship will sail with that turbulent brine
But the seagulls just glide around the quay.
They are indeed a lovely sight to see.
They plunge into the stormy sea for food
But the seagulls just glide around the quay.
They are a harbinger of weather crude,
They plunge into the stormy sea for food
Spying sardines, they eat or be forlorn,
They are a harbinger of weather crude,
Ominous clouds gather, and me they warn
Spying sardines, they eat or be forlorn,
No ship will sail with that turbulent brine
Ominous clouds gather and me they warn
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
Going on a tram to Lattes*,
the tram rails winding this and that,
but first, Montpellier was seen.
Tall buildings, cream and white,
and the sight of seagulls
near bright sea.
Best day was to be had in Lattes,
and ice-cream from bow-fronted shop.
Eight euros then to pay...
Tall buildings, monochrome,
and the sight of seagulls
near the sea.
The seagulls followed the tram back,
the tram rails winding this and that,
and then Montpellier re-seen.
Shops were shutting for the day
in tall buildings cream and white,
before the seagulls went away.
----------------------------------------------------------------
* pronounced Lat.
12/22/2015
Contest - My Abiding Memory
Sponsor - Viv Wigley
1st placement win - a real prize for it (a ornament of a bird).
Breath of fresh air is what I need
Where is that dog? where is that lead?
Need to blow all cobwebs away
We're off right now we won't delay
Ocean is calling salt on my skin
Waves are rolling seagulls skim
Skimming the waves a joy to see
Dog is barking he does agree.
High on the cliff, we enjoy the sight
Webs blown away all is right
Inner strength I begin to feel
Spring in my step so very real
Navigate ladder down to beach
Dog finds freedom he's now unleashed
Seaweed, and pebbles a pretty shell
Until next time a fond farewell.
Pixabay image by Screamenteagle
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Siren,
your fluid
hymn lures
me past tense
gray gulls
who eye me,
anxious
for my safe
return
They circle,
keening...
and the tide
moves to
free me of
my moorings
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fair wind floating above a sparkly sea
as the pounding surf grinds sand over there,
I then feel hunger to a large degree,
sense some morsels near, beat my wings on air.
As the pounding surf grinds sand over there,
I fly, knowing fellow hunters will feast,
sense some morsels near, beat my wings on air,
then hover, tuck, and dive in from the east.
I fly, knowing fellow hunters will feast,
will swoop and swoon for every scrap of food,
then hover, tuck, and dive in from the east,
attacking dinner with some attitude,
will swoop and swoon for every scrap of food,
and leave naught behind but sand, sky and brine.
Attacking dinner with some attitude,
squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine
and leave naught behind but sand, sky and brine;
I then feel hunger to a large degree.
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine,
fair wind floating above a sparkly sea.
November 26, 2019
Seagulls contest by Eve Roper
Still drowsy with sleep
an autumn morning stretches itself
out along Williamstown beach
and settles with barely a breeze
to break the water's mirrored glaze.
You sit and take in the warm air,
the easy flow, the prayers murmured
over glistening rocks by a rising tide.
There's no desire to be elsewhere
but already the slow unpicking starts.
First a stray thought slips by
then doubles back to take your focus.
It paces like a hungry gull testing the edges
of your space, probing for a hole.
Then another wheels around
and flares its wings to land nearby,
then another. Soon you are surrounded.
They stand and watch until you drop
a fear, then they pounce in a frenzy.
Each morning you come back
as if drawn by an inner need,
each morning they wait knowing
you're good for a feed.
Liquescent sunset fades away,
From the calm ocean horizon;
Slow ease, moving,
Mingling hues of scarlet,
Coral mood of twilight.
Immerse in the serene ocean music,
Waves begin to creep within reach;
Graceful pull, backs away,
To its labyrinth fathoms depth.
The air, I inhale deep,
Lost in briny cool breeze.
My passionate heartbeat
Consumes in its quintessence
Of the unfeigned world,
My simple lullaby.
Seagulls sailing by
Settling down for the night.
Alone, just my beloved and me,
Sit on a blanket, spread out
Over the grain of sand, nuzzling close.
A picnic, under the nascent twilight heaven.
Candles flicker blue-red flames,
Stimulating sparks, from the gentle stroke
Rolling off the ocean breeze.
A basket of fresh fruits, aged cheese,
Two crystal glasses
Filled with champagne as love beckons.
A fleeting glance into colorfulness night;
For our ardent passion flowers
Our unconditional surrender.
3/30/2020
Upon a rock, beside a cleft,
Sat a seagull white
A fledgling son sat to his left
His daughter to his right
He told them of the deep blue sea
And of the ships so grand
He taught them legends many
Tales of jewels beneath the sand
And then he nudged them forward
To stretch their wings and fly
Both children felt the oceans pull
And each thought they would try
The son was rather timid as he
gazed upon the bay
His daughter gave her bravest "Cah!!!"
And swiftly flew away
The seagull watched his daughter
And then looked at his son
"Now will you try my son?" He asked
"You've seen the way it's done!"
The son stepped forth his bright orange
Feet, one step, two steps, now three
He spread his wings and suddenly
Was flying bold and free
The older father seagull,
Watched, emotion in his eyes
"Fly farther now my children
The bluest, fairest skies...
And reach the pinnacles of heights
Than myself, and ever I
Could wish for you..,Sweet skies of blue"
And then whispered
"Good-bye."
The crying seagulls spoon midair —
Their December tongues slow to moor;
On wings in sky like a white tear.
The crying seagulls spoon midair —
Within their chase, coming to spare
A dirge for ice's front on shore —
The crying seagulls spoon midair,
Their December tongues slow to moor.
Ive noticed boys are like seagulls.
They pick up the first shiny thing they see.
Why would they want something dull.
Dont you agree?
And they keep it and hold it and tell it its pretty and that they love it.
Until they spot something more shiny and new.
Something that they just have to get.
I don't have any clue.
How they don't care anymore about the first.
They have no problem dropping it and forgetting.
They leave it like it was the worst.
Its a slap in the face..It stings.
Ive noticed something else i can see
There's always something prettier, brighter.
There always seems to be something shinier then me...
The seagulls swoop, the pigeons strut,
The sparrows flutter in the trees.
All creatures move around me, but
I sit and watch and rest my knees.
My second outing’s just for air,
A change of scene to pass the time
And often, by the river’s where
I sit and write my daily rhyme.
I’ve often ached for outside space –
A balcony or terrace so
I’d have the perfect private place
Where, maskless, I could always go.
But I don’t mind my little hike,
A block or two to snag a bench
And, with a view I really like,
My thirst for nature I can quench.
The morning’s time for exercise –
A quick-paced walk, my standard loop,
But afternoons I watch the skies
As clouds float by and seagulls swoop.