Best Wood Pigeon Poems
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
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
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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
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.
inspired by nature contest theme
The wood pigeon
awoke on her roosting perch
fluttered
with a nervous jerk
warily searching for sustenance
above
the peregrine
made a fateful entrance
The winter harsh
&icy cold
driven far
from its familiar fold
seeking food
further afield
an urban garden
might increase its yield
Under the biting
wintry sky
the 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
its momentum imprinting
our window pane
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
wherd nature's journal
leafs another chapter
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 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.
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.)
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
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.
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
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!
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.
Roast pheasant in cider sauce
Wood pigeon salad
Parmesan crusted chicken
with Baked chicory
Sweet apple brulee
Bon-bons and
Beer!