In the budding year
when skies are drear
I hope to hone
with mind and bone
gilded words of fire
designed in love’s attire.
As merry bees rouse
and swarm ripe boughs
may glad verse run
before the first sun
like streams of honey
to gift me money.
A very novice poet am I,
a fledgling, just learning how to fly.
My thoughts may climb as I flap my wings
but my anchored feet to this earth still clings.
I hope in time these wings won't teeter
and I can soar in a different meter.
Another day has slipped away,
the Sun has come and gone.
And in the night I hope I might,
enjoy a new day's dawn.
The month of May has slipped away,
the Moon has come and gone.
Though having fun in the Summer Sun,
for another Spring I long.
Yet robins sing and children dream,
as the Sun begins to rise.
One life ends, while another begins,
and the fledgling finally flies.
Then one day they flew away,
no more robins sing.
Now songless trees lose their leaves,
'till robins return in Spring.
It's been a year since we last past here
as Earth orbits the Sun.
'Twas a year with cheers and occasional tears,
but another Spring has come.
Now robins sing and plants grow green
and humming birds grace the sky.
Most Winter kill will surely heal
and fledglings soon will fly.
A tiny tawny torso
With tiny tawny eyes.
In tiny tawny cautious flows
The tiny tawny flies.
A tiny tawny heartbeat
With tiny tawny pace;
A tiny tawny look upon
A tiny tawny face.
Tiny tawny feathers
Of tiny tawny brown.
Tiny tawny eyebrows make
A tiny tawny frown.
A tiny tawny tinted breast
So tiny tawny cute.
A tiny tawny voice to call
A tiny tawny hoot.
Two tiny tawny wing tips
For tiny tawny flight
The tiny tender tawny owl
Takes off into the night.
Alan S Jeeves
I sit under the trees
Later
My neighbor said
“I enjoyed watching you pray.”
“What do you mean?”
“You sat there so still
Head tilted up for a very long time.”
“I suppose so
But actually I was entranced
By the crowns of the Oaks sweeping the sky
And that Cooper’s Hawk nest along for the ride
Swaying basket beneath a parachute
“A Fledgling teetering on the edge
“Doesn’t fly at first
Thinks
Then falls head first
“Batting tree trunks
Talons raking the bark
Crushing the branches in a humiliating commotion
Leaves ripped away
“Tumbling upside down
Wings hoisted half way to the planet
Then like magic
The bird fastens
To something close to the harness of an orbit
“Latches upright to a branch
Shakes its head
Furrows its brow
Eyes narrow to stirrings on the green mezzanine
Below
“Just like that
A Hawk reincarnated by hunger.”
“But I saw your hands clasped.” She says.
“Instincts, I guess.”
gardens in full bloom
fledglings abandon their nests
summer's flourishing
pip pip pip
pipes the fledged blue tit
after mummy blue tit
for a new tit bit
as she flew bit and bit
branch and branch tip and tip
cannot sit sit sit
chased by blue baby tit
piping pip piping pip
piping pip pip pip
dawn a flash of light
summer sun escaped the clouds
a blink in time
sparrows twittering
fledgelings begging to be fed
a watchful cat
warm westerly breeze
consolation for no sun
the warmth factor
summertime blinked
one-day last year a Monday
July the tenth
suntanned my body
fake news in a bottle
binned sunglasses
its summer time
no nature is lying
hush pretty baby
my apple tree
has yet to bloom and produce
summertime blues
Delight...
First flight
From nest
Tries best
Hits tree
Dear me!
Bent beak
Loud squeak
Throbbin
Robin
11-29-17
fledgling female red
cardinal bathes in bird bath....
frost on daylilies
A fledgling crow huddled in
the grass beneath the drooling
gazes of my curious dogs.
Its eyes were blue.
And in the tree, its mother screamed
In my hands it lay, gently confused.
Too young to fear me,
it opened its thirsty beak and greedily
swallowed water from a syringe.
And outside the window, its mother screamed.
I scratched its head,
stroked its breast,
and boxed it for its journey
to a haven for homeless birds.
And, as I carried it to the car,
its mother circled overhead.
And screamed.
A
small bird
flapping wings…
bouncing, bobbing
flight!
Fledgling
The world is so new to me
I awoke in shattered shells
In a nest of razor edges
Everything so familiar
But nothing I remember
The taste of bitter sadness
Lingering in my mouth
It swilled beneath the sweetness
Of a newly fledgling life
A new sun dripped on drops of bliss
While age-ed bones
Forgot their creeks and groans
And flexed untested wings
Something in my heart
Was calling
Though its pang lay dark and dismal parts
It dared to try those feathers winging
Though this birth
It seemed issued from drowning
Skies beseeching
Was in this love so beckoning
The stumbling dreams
Flap awakening
Drew me to my feet
Standing on the razor edged nest
Just ready
For the leap of faith
Out into the unknown yonder waiting
The first glide
Fledged
On vapour trails
I let go
To a sky
I didn’t know
Seems anyone can be
Born again
From the heart
Of a hard boiled
Egg
On hot hard dry ground
bits of yesterday's bread and cheese
untouched by starlings, seagulls, pigeons
extra to requirements
anyone's now
The water's dried up
A blackbird eyeing these scraps
and the sky and its young and I
standing stock still, inquisitive,
ventures, approaches,
finds something worth eating
I am a statue
The fledgling has joined its mother
a risky mission from cover to sun
Lighter in colour, its feathers softer
demeanour expectant
her equal in size
yet dependent still
Beween vigilance and sustenance
random morsels find their way
into its submissive beak, until
poised, they take flight
The evening hangs still
The statue fills the water-bowl
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.