Best Wren Poems


Premium Member Little Wren

Wren, wren, hungry wren,
what do you see today?
A lonely man with scraps of bread
he could have thrown away.

Wren, wren, little wren,
what do you see in me?
A smiling man who seeks out birds
for his society?

Wren, wren, with baby wren,
how do you treat your young?
You feed them well, as I once did
and teach them songs you've sung.

Wren, wren, there with your mate,
you ask me where's my love?
"She soars on higher breezes now,
the kind we both dream of".

Wren, wren, little wren,
what do you see in me?
A smiling man who seeks out birds
for his society?

written 24 Mar 2023
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wren, bird, lonely, lost love,
Form: Rhyme

The Song of the Wren

The wren is singing, high up in the tree
Come, lay your crown beside me on the ground
Come lie with me, my love, come lie with me

For every bloom on earth there is a bee
For every queen a green king to be crowned
The wren is singing high up in the tree

I wore a gown of bright embroidery
I wear my hair with heather flowers wound
Come lie with me, my love, come lie with me

I’m wanton, wild, alive with energy
I want you brought to me in oak leaves bound
The wren is singing high up in the tree

Oh aye, what then, why then I set you free
Oh my, and we get dirty and profound
Come lie with me, my love, come lie with me

You are my king.  I shut my eyes and see
Your silhouette, with sunlight all around
I hear the wren sing, high up in the tree
Come lie with me, my love, come lie with me

© Gail Foster 21st June 2018
Categories: wren, bird, myth, nature, passion,
Form: Villanelle

Little Wren

I looked out to a morning drear

Nothing there to cause me cheer,

But when I looked outside again

Upon my gate there sat a wren.

God bless this tiny little thing

The wren, he now began to sing.

He sang such a happy tune

His sweet refrain dispelled my gloom.

It was such a joyful song,

My unwelcome dreary morning, gone.
© Gary Smith  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wren, bird, nature, song,
Form: Rhyme

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Premium Member The Lady and the Wren:

With a flower in her hand,
She strolled on by,
Smiling at a wren,
Who asked her why?

Her world slipping fast,
Still, she stopped to reply,
"Come here a little closer"
So no one else could hear.

"I have lost my family,
And all that I hold dear."
So he pondered for a moment,
Then flew off with a tear. 

She thought that was rude of him,
Then gave it no second thought,
While approaching a willow grove,
She thought she saw him fly by.

As she entered through the trees,
Her eyes flew open wide,
There he was with a hundred more,
To welcome her to their sky.
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wren, analogy, bird, death,
Form: Rhyme

Carolina Wren

Where this time?
The pair makes several tries--
my hard hat, a can of nails, window ledge
all filled with leaves.
How do they judge
those inferior, this one prime?
It's predetermined, 
I don't know how.
So too their songs--
he two-notes or three-notes,
and she chirrrs along.
Same songs, same positions, 
morning in and morning out.
I wake to their repetition.
If they watch me, no doubt
they'd see my own routines,
but neither they nor I can find
what isn't wired in my genes.
Why does this human mind
hear Figaro, Figaro, Figaro
in his operatic voice?
Or is it video, video, video? 
It's his song, but my choice.
Categories: wren, animal, beauty, humor, language,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Words To a Wren

Words To A Wren

They have not taken thee, thou art too small
To tinge their fancy with a moment's flush;
Thy safely lieth in a ruined wall,
Thy plainsong blendeth with loud water's rush.
In dusky shade thy duskier shadow flits
Beside the pathway; friendly in thy flight;
No wrath of Heaven scares thee from thy wits,-
Thou art a brave and homely little wight.
What man can tell the meaning of the tongue
Thy presence in our memory uttereth?
What say you the thoughts of thee that wind among
Our travels on the ways of life and death?
If our hearts knew that secret we should be
Lords of the legend of our destiny.

Robert J. Lindley
presented , 3-10-2016


Note:
1. Wren-  The wrens are mostly small, brownish passerine birds in the mainly New World family Troglodytidae. About 80 species of true wrens in roughly 20 genera are described. Only the Eurasian wren occurs in the Old World, where in Anglophone regions, it is commonly known simply as the "wren", as it is the originator of the name. The name wren has been applied to other, unrelated birds, particularly the New Zealand wrens (Acanthisittidae) and the Australian wrens (Maluridae).
Most wrens are small and rather inconspicuous, except for their loud and often complex songs. Notable exceptions are the relatively large members of the genus Campylorhynchus, which can be quite bold in their behavior. Wrens have short wings that are barred in most species, and they often hold their tails upright. As far as known, wrens are primarily insectivorous, eating insects, spiders, and other small arthropods, but many species also eat vegetable matter and some take small frogs and lizards.[1]
Categories: wren, beautiful, bird, blessing, flying,
Form: Classicism


Carolina Wren

On top of the fence
A Crisp and Dewey morning
Smaller than her sound
Categories: wren, bird, morning, nature, sound,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Superb Blue Fairy Wren

The Wren loves to sing

Songs thy Bard will listen to

Inspiring his pen
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wren, bird, blue, poets, song,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Hunting the Wren On St Stephen's Day

folk dance in the streets
trying to find a ‘fake’ wren  -
old Manx tradition  

I’ve lived here for many years but have never witnessed this tradition but it is very popular and held in various locations across our little island. It is also celebrated in Ireland 


http://www.bbc.co.uk/isleofman/content/articles/2005/12/07/hunting_the_wren_feature.shtml

https://www.visitisleofman.com/whats-on/hunt-the-wren-p1310001

26/12/17
Categories: wren, bird, boxing day ,
Form: Senryu

Wren

These hands that once held you so tight
Have held many others, yet you were so right

The fingers that grasped your skin, they held your essence
They've stroked few others since, yet have you not rinsed

Sweet soft skin that glided, slipped under my touch
Is now free, aloft, for others to malign, enrough

You wanted to soar, sail, live above my simple view
Now you have it, experience it, is it worth it, ingenue?*

I tell myself that you are gone, forever lost, weak
Yet in my mind you are pure lass, hard, virginity

You wouldn't speak to me of the past you had
You painted a picture of pain gone, me new fallow land

Yet were you someone else, a free spirit only becalmed
That I came across and stood with, a stable palm frond

Or were you a different person, that fooled me complete
Were you a nymph, brought to me in moment of weak

Now you're gone, you said coldly you wanted aught else
And I gasp and grasp as what we once knew, held

The knife in my chest upon which I down-look
Is still here, your lash, your now ever-last-hook

Christ but it hurts, when I let your image come in
That we could have been so much, if it had only been

Did you peel away at last moment because you were fake wren*
Or because it was but temp respite, and we are meant

I do not want to believe that the stars ordain us
For it causes me burning, painful, magmatic crust

I want to know that you are that fake, bleeding sore
But I am afraid to look, to know that we were but ordure*..






* Ingenue - French - a young woman who is endearingly 

innocent and wholesome
* Wren - king of birds
* Ordure - fecal matter
Categories: wren, loss, lost love, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Poetic Verses, Words Composed, To a Wren

Poetic Verses, Words Composed, To A Wren

They have not taken thee, thou art too small
To tinge their fancy with a moment's flush;
Thy safely lieth in a ruined wall,
Thy plainsong blendeth with loud water's rush.
In dusky shade thy duskier shadow flits
Beside the pathway; friendly in thy flight;
No wrath of Heaven scares thee from thy wits,-
Thou art a brave and homely little wight.
What man can tell the meaning of the tongue
Thy presence in our memory uttereth?
What say you the thoughts of thee that wind among
Our travels on the ways of life and death?
If our hearts knew that secret, we should be
Lords of the Legend of our Destiny.

Robert J. Lindley,
Edited/Updated, 4-05-2019
Note:
1. Wren-  The wrens are mostly small, brownish passerine birds in the mainly New World family Troglodytidae. About 80 species of true wrens in roughly 20 genera are described. Only the Eurasian wren occurs in the Old World, where in Anglophone regions, it is commonly known simply as the "wren", as it is the originator of the name. The name wren has been applied to other, unrelated birds, particularly the New Zealand wrens (Acanthisittidae) and the Australian wrens (Maluridae).
Most wrens are small and rather inconspicuous, except for their loud and often complex songs. Notable exceptions are the relatively large members of the genus Campylorhynchus, which can be quite bold in their behavior. Wrens have short wings that are barred in most species, and they often hold their tails upright. As far as known, wrens are primarily insectivorous, eating insects, spiders, and other small arthropods, but many species also eat vegetable matter and some take small frogs and lizards.[1]
Categories: wren, art, bird, creation, endurance,
Form: Classicism

Ode To Wren

Ode To Wren

Her smile…
Could light
The darkest night

Her frown…
Turn the world
Upside down

She’s a circus…
She’s a sideshow
In her own special right

She’s a star…
That steals the show
Also a tiny slapstick clown

She’s special…
She’s beautiful
Both inside and out

So special...
That the Sun seems
To follow her about
 
She’ll leave…
Some day (as will I)
Of that there is no doubt

But she’ll always
Remain within my heart
And I’ll never let her out

Things must always end…
Change and start anew again
With a whisper…or a SHOUT

Yet Wren…
My little one year old friend
Is so special that the Sun seems
…To follow her about...
Categories: wren, angel, appreciation, child, love,
Form: Ode

Little Wren

Oh how the little wren sings
Her chirpy tunes in day time 
Twittering morning for us
A melodic charm of dawns chorus
Quickly darting here and there
Doesn't seem to have a care
Collecting bedding for her nests
Bits of moss and old string vest
Oh how the little wren sings
Her chirpy tunes in day time
Categories: wren, animals, caregiving, dedication, devotion,
Form: Free verse

Little Wren

For whom do you cry little wren?
You spread your wings
All on your own.
Your siblings perished.
Do you know?
Do you sing for me,
And me alone?

I wish I could be you little wren
Been where you’ve been,
Be a small unassuming friend
I want to fly higher than the sky.
Singed wings on our sun’s rays.
Or closer to the coast.
Sinking deep,
Beneath the waves.

I sit here.
Alone in agony 
No more freedom
Than gentle Persephone
Listening to your rasping voice
Breaking the silence of this dawn
Never ending obnoxious noise 
For whom do you cry little wren?

***

July 23, 2020
Categories: wren, beauty, bird, depression, sad,
Form: Personification

Premium Member Springtime Reveries

Buttery affection rains from the skies
Nurturing the tulips and daffodils
Bursts of joy upon the earth, to arise
With wonderous smiles, sunny thrills

Robins and wrens wrestle with the wind
Laughing and crooning, inspiring serenity
Warring with the windchimes, chagrined
By the swirling charms of love’s amenity

Oaks and birch whisper to the affections
Offering their silent hope with a caress
From the budding leaves with selections
For springtime reveries hearts profess





Spring Rhyme - 8-12 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
April 26, 2022
Categories: wren, appreciation, beautiful, blessing, daffodils,
Form: Rhyme
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