Best Wood Pigeon Poems

The Cynicism of Disillusion

THE CYNICISM OF DISILLUSION or Perhaps Hamlet was right.

Disillusion frames the drama of our lives
As we lurch through props and sets with pratfalls tripped
Wood Pigeon soars to self applause and then subsides 
Fine woven fabric inadvertently is ripped
Why essay to climb the peak, perchance the ending
Where demise succeeds your rise, while descending

16 February 2019

A Walk With the Birds

Slowly spring sun caresses the land
As kowhais will softly provoke 
Flushes of yellow to gently expand
Their buds of the season uncloak
Helping bellbirds escape from winter’s last choke.

Methodical beats of wood pigeon wings
Whoosh thru the quiet spring air.
Melodious trills as tuis’s sweetly sing
Fantails flitter, with hardly a care
While bush robins cheekily dare.

Fragrance of earth sweetens the breeze
New lambs adventure and race
Dragonflies linger, then floating past trees
Whio dart up the river with grace
My core just idolizes this place.

I climb up the mountain out of the trees
A kea, the comedian of the highland flies past
Does a sharp turn, lands on a boulder to tease
It’s green, blue and red feathers contrast
Their intelligence and pranks unsurpassed.

Day turns to evening; a morepork issues its call
A mournful sound that echoes the night
I descend in the darkness at the pace of a crawl
Then the hoarse cry of a kiwi just out of my sight
I'm relaxed. One day with the birds and I’m no longer uptight.

For info on these birds www.nzbirds.com

Imperiled Environ

Summer Sunshine

-
Windows thrown open on a sunny June morning  
Refreshing and uplighting like a sun flower's first captured vision
Breathe deep and absorb the sallowed air
A woodpecker knocks and signals that summer has sprouted at last

The window causes the wood pigeon to scare and swoop away to the south 
It flies leaving my elder berry tree. Oh those lovely teas of the elder berry 
I must check the size of the raspberries on those endless spreading tendrills
And tie up the old conference pear to the bending summer wind 

New cut grass divine in smell from yesterday's motored cut 
The stinging nettles make no effort to grow beside the swings
Small crimson and green rhubarb shoots sprout out and lack a feed
And the wind blown fish meal has moved on beyond the base of the plum tree

The wood pigeon returns and lands and hides like so many years before
Mr swallow swans and loops for insects upon the wing
So many frog sprawn clumps at top the septic tank some born some wriggle
And once before a pine marten appeared and lifted the lid of my old dust bin.

A garden so rich and vibrant so productive and open
I welcome all comers to grow to feed to view to read
It oxygenates the mind and calms the soul
Brings happiness and reason gives purpose and marks the season

Death In Nature a Normal Cycle

inspired by nature contest theme

The wood pigeon awoke on her roosting perch,
fluttered with a nervous jerk;
warilysearching for sustenance,
above the peregrine made a fateful entrance.
The winter harsh and icy cold,
driven far from its familiar fold,
seeking food further afield 
to an urban garden that might increase its yield.
Under a biting wintry sky 
the short tailed falcon hovered high,
an efficient killer from above,more than a 
match for pigeon or dove.
Taking its chosen meal in flight,swooping sudden from 
a great height,
the momentum imprinting our window pane,
her throat slashed she soon was slain.
Talons sunk deep into the pigeons chest 
this finicky eater pecked at head and breast.
The lawn strewn leavings of a ravenous raptor,
as nature's journal leafs another chapter.

A Place Called Calm

Suddenly my sense of hearing awakened by  
just three sounds

…. the rasping call of a wood pigeon outside
 somewhere

…. the low constant hum of my fridge
 in the kitchen, nearby

…. heavy footsteps, on creaking floorboards 
in the corridor
 
Another day, I would have called these noises 
 disturbance

instead, just then
serenity cradled my troubled soul 
in her silken arms 
she lulled me into an unfamiliar place called calm

in that moment 
just then 
peace.

Just Sunday Morn

Balcony birds eye view
Tiny gardens as tin soldiers
Tight in a row
Some as spoilt cherished children 
Desired domains
Some have dinked  boxes
Former relished
Remains....yet still standing
 
One seems a foxes
Potential secret den
Wildflower prolific
Non specific
Design on the eye
Nor ideas of grandest 
Grace
Just good honest wildflowers
Bursting micro colours over and out 
Of their space....
 
Sparrows combined free falling...
Sight
Spitfires versus...... Focke-wulf
Engrossed in that oh so intense...
Dog-fight
Crash landing within the foliage 
Of 
The 
Grandest tree
 
Exit sprite....one cabbage White,
Flits of hurriedly...
 
And the warbling starch collared wood-pigeon... settles
To sing his gracious sermon
Within the  sparrow's demise

His dull low call, to me
Surreptitiously... stole the show
It was indeed a glorious 
Sunday... Morn
 
And what happened to the battling birds
I confess..I do not know

The Falcon and the Pigeon

The wood pigeon awoke on her roosting perch,
fluttered with a nervous jerk;
warilysearching for sustenance,
above the peregrine made a fateful entrance.
The winter harsh and icy cold,
driven far from its familiar fold,
seeking food further afield 
to an urban garden that might increase its yield.
Under a biting wintry sky 
the short tailed falcon hovered high,
an efficient killer from above,more than a 
match for pigeon or dove.
Taking its chosen meal in flight,swooping sudden from 
a great height,
the momentum imprinting our window pane,
her throat slashed she soon was slain.
Talons sunk deep into the pigeons chest 
this finicky eater pecked at head and breast.
The lawn strewn leavings of a ravenous raptor,
as nature's journal leafs another chapter.

Woody

munching with my mate
   buxom burgundy berries
   autumn pigeon date



( I have a red guava tree which the wood pigeons love, eating 30 berries in one go - just swallow after swallow. Usually leave all fruit for them.)

Constipation

An alter in an altercation? No. That is merely the result of a lemon fruited display of a quite fruity pie. Or could it be an orbital orange? Or lake of lime? In time digestions of peas is quite charismatic when absorbed with the milk of a leaf. But categorizing caterpillars is just not wise. Wood pigeon wood pigeon woo woo woo. And the clap of a shaft from an otherwise dormant cave. Fringe of a bag is the shroud of a hag and a hag is neither a coat, nor a cousin. Nor is it a beetle belly flopping in a nine acre pond. Dip dab dip then. Erotic notifications of a zenith steel stew. Such rambunctious ramifications and a ram baaa baaaa baaaaaa. Wow. Quite fascinating isn't it? Really. Compose not a compost. And graze no gravel. How eradicated. How interesting. Hahahahaha carrots can can . No hahaha but hahaha to frozen flowers imported from Dubai. Capital airport with a p y q. Under umbrellas view. Style. Xxxxx constipation z c v b z z z m

For the Love of Dawn

Mist loiters with poignance
 Enchanting... near silence
 With distant jubilance, beloved wood pigeon
 Praise calls Dawn
 Invites her welcoming gaze
 She adorns chiffon and lace
 Sheer elegance enters
 Eyes praise her dew drop smile
 She promises much today
 
Unveil her aura as a slow release
 So we may
 Observe
 Listen
 Smile
 Inhale her sweetest of scent
 Pure as crisp cool linen
 
 As.. 
 Grass bends submissively, weighty dew
 Which tinkers delightful
 To the beads of life
 Movement 
 Light
 Pearlised webs adorn her as dignified jewels
 She is oh so smileworthy
 As promising as a brand new lover
 Unveiling just for us
 
Thank you Mother 
Nature

Summer Stream

Dragonfly lands atop the stick that stands in gently flowing stream.
Bubble trains and dried leaf boats blow
and briefly strand before they slip between the stepping stones 
then skip beyond, where quieter waters flow.

Speckled trout, dappled thrice, with sunshine spots,
just seen through mirror shimmered waters
swim between the Crowfoot’s tangled shocks 
waving to and fro to follow as the current’s go, 
white-adorned with flower pearls 
set bright in green and flowing locks.

Somewhere far, wood pigeon’s throaty coo, 
three longer, one double follow through, 
floats high along soft summer’s breeze, 
while flagging briefly, one by one, willow’s silver bellied leaves 
turn and turn to signal with the sun that all is as it should be. 
All is peace, and all is lazy summer’s eaze.

Wildlife 28

Wildlife 28

A plumpish wood pigeon called Sue,
Thought it sexy to bill and to coo,
So she zoomed to the ground,
Where she pranced round and round,
Then flew off 'cos she wanted a poo!

Game On

Roast pheasant in cider sauce
Wood pigeon salad
Parmesan crusted chicken
with Baked chicory
Sweet apple brulee
Bon-bons and
Beer!

N Is For Nature a Happening

The wood pigeon awoke on her roosting perch,
fluttered with a nervous jerk;
warilysearching for sustenance,
above the peregrine made a fateful entrance.

The winter harsh and icy cold,
driven far from its familiar fold,
seeking food further afield 
to an urban garden that might increase its yield.

Under a biting wintry sky 
the short tailed falcon hovered high,
an efficient killer from above,more than a 
match for pigeon or dove.

Taking its chosen meal in flight,
swooping sudden from a great height,
the momentum imprinting our window pane,
her throat slashed she soon was slain.

Talons sunk deep into the pigeons chest 
this finicky eater pecked at head and breast.
The lawn strewn leavings of a ravenous raptor,
as nature's journal leafs another chapter.