Best Song Bird Poems
Little song bird in my tree
singing your sweet song for me
singing sweetly, singing clear
your song, it fills me with good cheer.
Little song bird sing your song
with all my heart I'll sing along.
A gift from God you grace the earth
there is no measure to your worth.
Little song bird, wild and free
when you leave, will you take me?
Together we could soar so high
across the endless, azure sky.
Little song bird, singing high above
your song, it fills my heart with love.
little song bird in my tree
with your song you set me free.
I write of sad things in my life for you,
And win sometimes first place and this is true;
Some hate my weeping words,
That I write like a song bird;
So I give me, a compliment or two.
_________________________
June 20, 2015
Limerick
Inspiration Quote:
"When you cannot get a compliment in any other way, pay yourself one."
Mark Twain
For the contest, Write with the Wit of Twain
Sponsor, Andrea Dietrich
Seventh Place
Eloquent song bird, what ancient lyric do
You sing with timeless unrehearsed voice?
Unscripted from beyond memory, known to
You from your birth; in song do you rejoice?
Oft unseen, by melody your presence known,
Without effort the silent distance enriched.
Your enchanting song in the drifting wind blown,
In each melodic phrase our senses bewitched.
At each dawning, in song you are set apart,
In all your seasons a million notes you sing,
From deepest woodland thicket you pour your heart,
And to our world, unknown to you, magic bring.
B. Stebbings
12/04/2019
On swift wings, blessed by the light,
who pours out the melody,
scriptures come to life – in the song,
joyful noises, crafted by hope,
soothing away the dark, coloring the life
in gentle truth, praises poured out,
all through the music, songs drifting,
on the edge of a heart – rhythmic, beyond the winds,
who remember only the showers,
the storm who haunts with its whisper,
blessings gesture to the souls who recall…
on swift wings, they soar, gliding through the skies,
at peace with the graceful sun, at peace…
they seem to sing, ‘just see what God has done’,
“J U S T S E E… what God has done…
And, He has only just begun! He has only just begun!!!!
high in a forest tree
a little songster listens
and answers with phrases
with chatters, twitters, warbles
the little bird hops along a branch
hidden in a green canopy of leaves
singing a song that drifts and dips echoing _
_____________________
April 15, 2020
Poetry/Verse/song bird
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1244-072-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
For the contest, Strand No 730 Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
If I were a song bird
I'd soar on feathered wing
to light upon your window sill
my song for you I'd sing.
Each note I'd fill with tenderness
as much as I employ
if you would let me sing for you
I'd fill your heart with joy.
If I were a song bird
to you I'd sing my story.
If it would fall on willing ears
my sad heart would know glory.
Each note infused with sweetness
I would sing with all my heart
the songs you have inspired
right from the very start.
This pen now wants some rest,
this mind is now tired a lot,
like a mute bird in its nest
no more song now,no more thoughts.
This mind is now tired a lot,
though the moon is in the sky
no more song now,no more thoughts,
no more words now,don't ask me why.
Though the moon is in the sky,
your eyes still so blue and deep,
no more words now,don't ask me why
give me a break now,let me sleep.
Your eyes still so blue and deep;
like a mute bird in its nest
give me a break now,let me sleep,
this pen now wants some rest.
©kash poet (kashinath karmakar)
*****************************
Placement:2nd; January 2013
Contest:One to One (all monosyllable words)
Sponsor:David Williams
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PANTOUM--A rare form of poetry similar to a villanelle. It is composed of a series of quatrains; the second and fourth lines of each stanza are repeated as the first and third lines of the next. This pattern continues for any number of stanzas, except for the final stanza, which differs in the repeating pattern. The first and third lines of the last stanza are the second and fourth of the penultimate; the first line of the poem is the last line of the final stanza, and the third line of the first stanza is the second of the final. Ideally, the meaning of lines shifts when they are repeated although the words remain exactly the same: this can be done by shifting punctuation, punning, or simply recontextualizing.
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they shout the truth in simple hues
in hopping waves of black and blue
they drop from clouds when heroes die
with blood etched throats they agonize
why must charms of hope leave the eye
for hearths lain cold-souls pulverised
warlocks pock the virgin's bone
plucking pearls from time-worn shoals
rose petal slung like david's stones
life tangoes hearts ... blue icy ropes
why why why the frog bird moans
why why why the frog bird moans
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I heard my little bird singing the breeze,
I heard her singing on a breath of air,
The air that slowly moves through forest trees,
The old, oak trees where initials declare,
Declarations made upon love’s high trapeze.
Old memories recalled again today,
Another day, another time, we knew,
I knew that bird song would echo my way,
The way a joyful song reminds of you,
The you that I hold dear in my heart to stay.
In memory of my little bird, Tash
RIP sweetheart!
xxxx
Form: Sicilian Quintains
Love, at first sight,
is what happened between me and you.
You had beautiful big eyes brighter than the sun,
in a golden brown crib with a white cloud
is where you stayed daily and nightly.
A bird with a string,
that looked just like me,
spun above your head and sung you to bed.
Every night smiling so brightly, listening to it,
and closed your eyes to go to sleep.
One early morning,
a day I will never forget,
is the day I tried singing like the fake.
And to me, it wasn't great,
but when I looked towards your window,
there you were with your beautiful big eyes with a bright smile,
staring straight at me.
So I made a promise to myself,
that every day,
to see you wake,
I would sing a tune just for you.
Every day of your life,
till you fly out of your nest,
I watch your wings grow,
and no matter what,
I will sing to you.
Sincerely, your songbird.
Once upon a time in a new day dawning
In the crack of time between night and morning
Something caught me from yarning
It was sweet but felt like a warning
That death is night to life of a new day born in
This celebration of life beginning
The song bird took up their instruments and started singing
Awakening sleepers with a joyous springing
Ending their short death with a new up bringing
So sing little song bird
Every morning as the sun comes anew
Only recognized by the few
Flapping her wings in the dew
She’s that song bird
Cracking the dawn, she’s heard
What can she say? She’s just a bird
Can’t speak but you know her word
So sing little song bird sing
With your melody bring
The wind of nature in your wing
In your serenade there’s our fling
All I am saying
Is sing little song bird sing
Song bird, Song Bird
take leave of flight,
Sweet new morning,
Serenade in the light...
Herald, in this bright sunlight...
this song you sing
harmonise mornings first light...
Song bird, Song bird
you are the sky within...
...my heart receives your delicate notes,
like trinkets on gentle breeze...
Song bird, Song bird
take leave of flight,
You nurture our nature,
Song bird, Song bird,
Your morning awaits,
Song bird, Song bird,
You are the sky within...
The early bird gets the worm
Or so they always say
As he squirms what does the worm earn
For minding his business in clay?
Watching blue birds fly about singing various tunes
The red birds song sing of home in the month of June.
6/15/2022
Written for BITE SIZE POEM #47 POETRY CONTEST
Sponsor Line Gauthier
Song Bird Sang Soft Sweet Refrain
While we went for ride on a train in Spain,
Single song bird sang a soft, sweet refrain;
We would yearn,
One day to return;
Our soul and spirit forever there did remain.
Jim Horn
Always would make me wonder,
What below earth is down under,
And above lightening and thunder;
Having been born from a blunder;
God saved those who were put asunder.
Greet Then Desire to Meet
Many people we eventually did meet;
Each of them we had wanted to greet;
Were incorrigible,
And deplorable;
What we had read in a Trump tweet.
Trump knew Flynn had lied and most
of his supporters were losers. The rest
were loyal Republicans.
Jim Horn
Fine Poem Is Mine
Did discover each poem was forever fine,
And poets did define them as being mine;
Have been behooving,
An experience moving;
Are divine and can read while you do dine.
Chase A Mental Case Out of Office
Found incorrigible has been Trump's base;
Our President we found with an ugly face;
Had orange hair,
And hard to bare;
Out of office should chase the mental case.
To Trump Should Propose
Why anyone in right mind Trump chose,
This I personally would like to propose;
Do get rid of,
And out shove;
Lies made him grow a gargantuan nose.
The truth will make us free and free up
a lot of things.
Personally Are Petrified
With Trump we are personally petrified;
Looks like as usual he has lied and lied;
Low does stoop;
A nincompoop;
On a rail out of office force him to ride.
With Trump we surely should denounce,
And weigh all of the bull by each ounce;
Item collected,
And misdirected;
On all of his stupidity start to pounce.
By God me again He personally directed;
Check out tax returns and have inspected;
We must admit,
Is half of a wit;
So sadly Trump as prisoner was selected.
After Trump being President for short while;
On him should see what they have on file.
To God Devoted
To God I always have been devoted;
Received with honor and promoted;
I was wishing,
To go fishing;
Down river with him I have boated.
Jim Horn
When A Beautiful Morning, Song-Bird Sings
When morning songbird warbles lively dirge
Soul wakes unable to resist this urge
And when alone, these feet begin to tap,
Taking me to delight from last night's nap.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
Heart joins rhapsody, colors team up
As if to fill life's joyous golden cup;
A miracle vanquishing worldly pains
Such a blessing very hard to explain.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
Thus I thank songbird for gifting its glee
Arousing sleeping spirit within me
Nature's finer blessing given for sure
Restoring what world's dark has made impure.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
When morning songbird warbles lively dirge
Soul wakes unable to resist this urge
And when alone, these feet begin to tap,
Taking me to delight from last night's nap.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
Robert J. Lindley, June19th, 1974
Rhyme
( Wherein Heart Can Finally See Hope And Light )