Flying Poems

WINGSTER

If I had wings or another source to fly
I was born to soar
The sky and I
Discover horizons and unknown distances
Never seen before
Surge among the high mountains
Observing below endless oceans, Lakes, Rivers, Water Falls and running streams
Through the Sun that brings warmth
Feeling the friendly breezes
Into the air to countries beyond America
Where language accents dwell
Senses of aroma

Holiday Get Together

A hawk flew high, soaring...
a breathtaking dive and dip  
(Watched I with jealous
eye).  Came a great aerial flip,
leveled to precision glide -- 
my wing-full heart sighed:
Oh, to have wings!  

Short time later, I was indoors,
at the dinner table.  It was Thanksgiving~
Oh~ God, thank you for wings!

Hang Gliding

A day at the cliffs, dancing with wind shifts.
There’s nothing like this, a day of pure bliss.
Safety must come first, to avoid the hearse.
Helmet for your head, harness or you’re dead

With glider in hand, it’s time to leave land.
You need to run swift, to catch the wind’s lift.
You’ll fly like a bird; few sounds will

My Shout was Sent Flying

Rushing back with my shout
drinks held aloft skew-whiff.
I was spun all around
like a wild water spout,
     caught by brush
     flush with haste
     shame's a gush
     blush disgraced
     crowd's hush-hush

Osprey

Osprey scans waters
Swoops fish caught for young in nest -
Natural food chain

An Angel in A Gilded Cage Will Think Flying Is A Pain

I watch you unfold—
an argent bloom of bone and feather—
the quiet thunder of an angel
shivering beneath your skin.
I should let you rise,
let your beauty cleave the air,
let the wind kiss the hollows of your ribs.
But I do not.

I bind.
I weave my hands into the delicate lattice
of your wings,
folding them back like prayer beads,
tight against your

beyond the shackles

Once I was starling voice at dawn, 
A flock of chimed echoes on my tongue,
Wheezing whistles on choralled lawn,
Each verse a mimic so sweetly sung.

Now I’m a lyrebird lost in the brush,
Framing my solos in shadowed boughs,
With heart unfolding in trembling rush,
A lonesome lilting with hidden vows.

With cheeslets and flummox in my beak,
I sift the

One Autumn Evening

With flip-flap wings
in rhythmic rowing,
two sunset-magpies
flew straight through
a sky of pumpkin soup,
as I drove home to you.

Frailty

      a paraglider
        sails over me

      I, green with envy
        he, mocking me 

Cinnabar Moth

Plump black velvet plush
fluttering flip book of flight
reveals concealed blush

She was afraid of heights, but she feared even more never flying

She was afraid of heights, but she feared even more never flying,
Like a bird that keeps its wings folded, fearing the wind,
Yet whose song is filled with the desire to soar towards the sky.
She was afraid of plunges, of the abyss stretching beneath her,
Like an ocean hiding its depths in mystery,
But in her eyes was

Snoopy

Schulz brought to life little Snoopy
gave him two ears that were droopy
concocting a sweet lovable beagle
an ace who could fly like an eagle

It Just Won't Let Me Go

       Something’s rumbling inside me
        pushing, kicking
        shoving, shouting 
     And it won’t let me go, oh no
     It just won’t let me go… 

  

Flies

Flies love figs, oaks, elms, and willows; we know.
They play hide-and-seek with leaves tinged with snow.
In their purblind fondness, our hearts get sparked?
Do they flee from us because we're crook-backed?

Around us, wingers of every kind fly.
We often love their melancholic cry.
Isn't each fly as fine as a butterfly?
Shouldn't each be the master of the sky?

The

Moving Stars

beside the river
what a night! darkness is great
fireflies moving stars

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Poems Related to Flying

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