Chirped Poems | Examples

Forest of Blue

Marjorie Moose, with her chandelier crown,
found twelve ducklings just wandering down.
No mother in sight, no map in their beaks
just confused chirps and moss-covered cheeks.

She took them to a pond shaped like a spoon,
where frogs sang jazz beneath the moon.
She taught them to nap in a thistle-made bed,
While squirrels served pines and soup in a shed.

But one day the sky sent a postcard of rain,
Signed by a breeze from the mushroom terrain.
Then Mama Duck swooped from a cumulus cloud,
and all the ducklings chirped, absurdly loud.

“We love you, Moose Mum!” then gave her a hug,
and a necklace of gum from a raccoon’s tree rug.


Now legends say in the forest of blue,
babysitters have hooves and hearts too.

abcedarian to kill more time today

anticipated Albany albatrosses
buried bumpy bugs beyond the bay
creepy curious cats dug them up
dinner for dogs they said in disgust
even the dogs turned up their snouts at the bugs
frenzied finicky felines are crazy they barked
giant crows arrived and devoured the gruesome bugs
helping themselves to six or eight at a time
I am glad these raptors showed up said the dogs
jealousy in no way entering their heads
kilt-wearing albatrosses happened along
lingering close to where their bug stash used to be
mad now, they marched menacing around the meadow
no need to be upset, the bugs escaped, lied the dogs
opportunity to be peacemakers always taken by pups
pacifists and problem solvers
quails and quackers put their six cents in
raising the ire of the miffed albatrosses
sixteen sparrows sauntered in to stir things up too
they had heard there was a show-down
ugly words were tweeted and chirped
verbs and vowels best not repeated here
wrens and warblers were shooed off by the fray
‘xact ‘xchange never ‘xamined or journaled
you are lucky you escaped this melee
zealous birds can become dangerously ugly.

Compassion

**A Bird in the Hand**

From my childhood, I cherish the sweet memory of holding a sparrow in my hands. Its heart raced wildly, igniting my curiosity. Gazing into its small, beady eyes, I couldn't help but smile as it chirped and whined, pleading for freedom. 

Yet, in its desperation, it bit down on my thumb, yearning to escape and explore the world. The realization struck me hard. 

“Yay! You better let that bird go before it pecks your nose,” warned Nana. 

That day marked a turning point; I gently released the little bird, whispering, “Up, up, and away, dear friend. I truly apologize.” 
In that moment, I learned the importance of compassion and letting go.

The Unexpected Plunge of Reginald Cluck

"What are you all quacking about?" squawked Reginald Cluck,
Peering from his coop, quite out of luck.
A drizzle had started, a timid, soft weep,
While others still snoozed in feathery sleep.

"A little rain never hurt anyone!" chirped Pip,
Whose splash-prone spirit rarely would slip.
He’d eye every puddle, a shimmering pond,
With a gleam in his eye, quite remarkably fond.

Reginald scoffed, adjusted his comb,
"Such soggy affairs! I prefer my dry home."
He’d seen the contest poster, a splashy delight,
But preferred his reflections, all polished and bright.

Then a gust, unexpected, a mischievous sigh,
Tumbled Reginald forward, right under the sky.
He landed with grace, in a puddle so grand,
A most dignified splish across the wet land.

His feathers, now plastered, his dignity skewed,
He blinked at his image, delightfully new.
"Let's do the chicken splash!" he suddenly cried,
As the "Mystic Rose" whispered, "Don't hide your wet side!"

And so Reginald Cluck, once a skeptic so stiff,
Discovered true joy in that watery whiff.
He kicked up a fountain, a most glorious spray,
Proof that a puddle can brighten your day.

Romanticize

I looked at the trees.
They moved with the birds, while they chirped and laughed. 
Shutting the door, my hand shaking from former caffeine. 
I heard music from my room.
It stopped.
My speaker died. 
The blinds let the light in and my room smelled good,
like laundry in the morning. 
My skin was easy today and my lips soft. 
The house was still and my heart at peace.
Days were content and long.
Clean, Coffee, Scripture, Makeup, Work. 
My routine is simple.
The only problem, 
I am alone.

Out of Cluck

In my kitchen, an old-fashioned timer
Keeps track of my coffee pot’s perk.
I wind it and eight minutes later,
The pot has completed its work.

The timer is shaped like a chicken;
It ticks as the minutes elapse,
Then rings to announce its completion,
Technology prior to apps.

Yet this morning, my chicken stopped tickin’;
Its mechanics have chirped its last cluck,
So I kept a close watch on my coffee - 
Guess Alexa would never get stuck!

The Tiny Heart

A little sparrow,
Chirped and jumped
Around his friend
Still and cold
In hopes of warmth.

With every leap,
A plea to thrive
He turned and twirled.

The little sparrow,
Seeking help beneath
The fading light,
Chirped and jumped.

(Based on a true event.)

etched in stone

drenched in pomegranate juice
the sand stone wished to be granite
yet a figment of imagination
eluded the tomb and it was over

eternally gone final impermanent

the children wept crocodile tears
but ancestors knew about snake bites
betrayal unforgiveness treachery deception
inscribed were false words
and only time would tell
if his wishes were granted

shaded under a fig tree
his begging bowl was empty
not one grain of rice graced death robes
yet saffron scents veiled his demise
as fruit of his loins shattered the earth

shadows danced a requiem
cacophony from split tongues
inscribed the message in blood
as vultures gathered 
and songbirds went silent

yet wise jacaranda petals
found resting places in grooves
where the chisel had been

no eye for a blind eye
crack in the orb
universe spinning still

he chuckled from inside the grave
serene in lightness peaceful in mind
surreal quietude chirped at the dawn
of new beginnings 
his dead heart full of undying passion

etched in a gem stone
the jewel lived on forever
a rough diamond without polish
true to himself

Quite a Stretch

Two young wrens sat on a wire side by side.
Then one bird stretched her wings ever so wide.
The other bird grabbed the tip of her wing,
And she began to scream, poor little thing.

Pulling much harder, he wouldn't let her go,
But lost his grip when she moved to and fro.
Angered and miffed, she flew to a small branch.
He chirped his regrets to beg a next chance.

And the following day, she did just that...
He began to walk, she began to trail
Close enough to yank some feathers from his tail.

From Different Skies

Started Writing on July 23, 2024
Finished writing on Oct. 29, 2024

They grew up in different parts of the sky.
A chance meeting changed each of their lives.

Each flying as part of their flock,
They bumped each other when avoiding a rock.

They chirped at each other and wanted to be
The other’s love for eternity.

They would never be together in the world as it was.
They would need to be sneaky about their true love.

Their flocks did not know of their love - so divine.
They would sneak away after chirping well-crafted lies.

And then one day against Mother Nature’s plans
They flew away for good and "took a stand." 

Soon a baby bird chirped in their nest
A baby bird quite unlike the rest.

Unlike Romeo and Juliet, suicide was not part of the plan
And the new bird family soon grew into a clan.

Childhood Love

Childhood Love (Villanelle)

I remember that glorious day when we were young,
We played together and danced through time and space,
If only I expressed my loving thoughts with my tongue.

Our childhood love was written on the pulse next to the lung,
Your eyes shone, dazzled and glistened with grace,
I remember that glorious day when we were young.

You stood by the gate next to a paddock filled with dung,
My fearful state didn’t want to be kissed in your embrace,
A twelve year-old didn’t know what to do when love’s phone rung.

It was amongst the summer trees and by the river where we hung,
Even in the face of fear, I still loved beholding your pretty face,
I remember that glorious day when we were young. 

I wonder if the birds noticed, their mouths chirped and sung,
It was as if time slowed because life happened at a slower pace,
If only I expressed my loving thoughts with my tongue.

Love can hurt and cooler guys pursued you; my teenage years stung,
Throughout your years I wondered if in your heart if I still had a place,
I remember that glorious day when we were young.
If only I expressed my loving thoughts with my tongue. 

By Scott Beattie

Change is Nature’s Delight

Old Man Winter grumbled and frowned, 
Said, "Spring's taking way too long to come 'round!" 
But a robin, so bold, chirped up from a tree,
"Relax, grumpy Gus, change is the key!”

Flowers peeked out, with a shy little smile, 
Said, "Winter, don't fret, we'll be here a while!" 
The grumpy old man, with a huff and a puff, 
Melted away in a sunshiny fluff.

Caterpillars wiggled, "We're tired of this crawl, 
Time to transform, and answer the call!" 
They spun silken cocoons, hung high in the breeze, 
And emerged as butterflies, flitting with ease.

Rivers they rushed, with a gurgling glee, 
Carving new paths, to the welcoming sea. 
The mountains stood tall, with a wisdom untold, 
Whispered, "Change is the story, both young and old.”

The sun dipped low, with a fiery goodbye, 
But promised to rise, with a brand new sky. 
The stars winked and twinkled, then faded from sight, 
Knowing the dawn brings a beautiful light.

Change, it isn't scary, it's nature's delight, 
A constant refreshing, both day and night. 
So shed what you must let go of the past, 
Embrace the new season, that's here to outlast!

I Waited For You

I waited for you
When the sun was high in the sky
When the birds chirped
And the world was at peace

I waited for you
When thunderstorms rolled in
Drenched in water
And my heart was in turmoil

I waited for you
As debts piled up on my heart
And my soul forgot how to feel
No longer knowing if this is true

I waited for you
But you never came
And my heart knew agony
Like never before

But...you waited for me too
In another place, in another time
The fact is I never came
And your tears fell from the sky

fishermans daughter

the fishing pole is ready
my victims are as good as in my mouth
her little mind was heady
on her way, she turned down south

the birdies chirped throughout the dale
April approaching made March less grim.
Night crawlers were singing in their pail
Not knowing what was in store for them.

the fishing pole was plunked into the water.
Bass and bluegill fought over the worms.
A terrific day for a fisherman’s daughter.
Enough lunch for six pachyderms.

Sweet sparrow

I was sitting in my gallery
Nurturing my plants, watering them
A little sweet sparrow arrived
And landed on my shoulder
I got alert so that she didn't fly away
I behaved like a statuette
She kissed me on my cheeks with her beak,
I was astonished,I said thank you , please come again on next week
She chirped in my ear
And went away far from here

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