Long Bird Poems
Long Bird Poems. Below are the most popular long Bird by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bird poems by poem length and keyword.
TODAY
Black Elk said: "A peoples' dream died there... it was a beautiful dream. The Nation's hoop is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, and the Sacred Tree is dead."
The People were not taken up,
Nor did they die.
They lingered through time and the march of Progress,
As most fell into step, shedding all they'd been,
To drift along with the tide.
But for the many who held on in the Feverland,
Where change came slowly, if at all,
Their wrinkles grew deeper, eyes clouding
Likes skies heavy with storm,
Visions wavering ephemerally,
Seeing like ghosts,
Becoming ghosts.
Their dream is long dead
But the memory of it lingers smoldering
As unquiet ashes in unsteady hearts.
In the quiet of the blackest nights,
Or in the stillness that precedes the dawn,
If one listens closely, with committed heart
One may hear faint echoes
Like the cries of some bird
Unimaginably distant.
The fire is out, only hope goes on smoking
As ever, the last ember to die.
The old gaze out onto the mesas,
Watching the sun paint them red as it sets,
Listening the while for other sounds from other times,
Dreaming sweet dreams when they doze.
When the rare rains fall,
Settling the choking dust,
Some who went to the White Schools remember
The shortest verse of the White Man's Book:
Jesus wept.
Does He weep now, supplicant before His Father's throne?
Imploring mercy for His adopted Brothers,
Betrayed as He was Himself betrayed?
Are these drops from the sky His tears,
Or only rain?
The old men,
Less learned,
Ponder this verse of their own:
The old men
Say
The Earth only
Endures.
You spoke truly,
You are right.
One of the benefits to being an early riser…
is I am blessed to hear and see the interplay
between the night as she clocks out
and cedes the mountains to the day.
There is a lonely owl who, if I’m early enough,
from her spot hidden in the trees
sings a lovely nightly swan song and sets it on the breeze.
She sings in a beautiful soprano…
clear, peaceful and bright…
as she anticipates the day…
with one final nocturne to the night
I think of it as the concluding song of an opera
and how, once her final song is through,
the birds who wake up with the day
begin their musical revue.
Perhaps she’s singing a wake-up song
A gentle musical number
into the ears of the morning birds
awakening them from their slumber.
And perhaps their singing in the morning
once their music fills the sky…
which to me seems like a symphony
to the owl …s a lullaby.
At any rate is it a wonderful way
for each new day to begin…
watching and listening to the nigh clock out
while the day is clocking in.
A crisp, cold morning in Hyde Park,
and he is waiting for his date.
As joggers jog and poodles bark,
the girl's unconscionably late.
He paces London's crocused heart,
as traffic booms in Piccadilly:
he's practicing that English art
of seeming calm, while feeling silly.
One final tryst beside the lake,
in front of the Eternal Boy:
a parting kiss, for old times' sake ...
she's stood him up? Or playing coy?
The hotel clerk purrs sympathy
when summoned on the mobile phone.
By now, she'll be in Duty Free.
Well, there it is. This Bird Has Flown.
He tries to feign the jaunty airs
of a striped suit on a sandwich sortie,
but doing drily debonaire's
not easy when you're fat and forty.
He tramps the lonely, flat green mile
to Green Park Tube's unlovely portal,
but perks up with a cheeky smile -
well, for a week he was immortal!
Summer wakes with nature’s music
Part 1
The storms are rolling through tonight
Summer is speaking, thunder claps
Echoing across mountains view
Many miles display wild weather
Passing through, the hills and valleys
Birds sing between each round of wind
Rain weaves about like instruments
Playing songs in a marching band
Nature’s music, so many ways
I am waiting and listening
Ready to clap as the storms pass
These are the days when summer wakes
Part 2
Quiet time now left from the storm
Shaded green trees blanket the hill
Thunder fades into the distance
Leaving a trail of breeze behind
Brushing me, cool refreshing air
The ground is wet from fallen rain
Birds now hiding some place quiet
Slowly they move, not many fly
They waited for storms to go by
Distant pale skies start to brighten
Shiny wet grass begins to dry
The smell of rain is in the air
Chirping sounds are heard everywhere
Music light, then a bit louder
Coming from trees shaking off rain
Bird songs warble with the rain drops
In peace left behind from the storms
*8 syllables each line, each part.
Heidi Sands
6/23/17
Contest: Our effervescence
Contest Judged: 9/3/2025 1:19:00 AM
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Placement: Fourth
"conjoined with the whole, we play our life role exuding a scent granting love consent"
— Unseeking Seeker
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my love life is not an island
my heart feeds yours, and yours needs mine
together we can mend the leaks at our ends
and find perfection when our hearts align
what use is the love that fills your heart
if you refuse to unlock it from recluse?
let my dream form yours, let yours shape my stream
clear away your doubt, let us scatter the clouds
my love you fling away is a bird with one wing
though flight is possible, it trembles in fright
so strengthen me soon, and let us soar to the moon
my cake is baked, awaiting your icing
my mart stands empty, waiting to hold your art
my diamond in the rough awaits your polish
to reveal its sweetness, like almond freed from its shell
we are heaven’s match—if only you’ll march with me
my heart is a rose where sharp thorns arose
your love must weed the spicules, heal scars and freckles
though I am broken, your love is the token
its balm still lingers in my dreams and psalms
just play your love’s role, and let mine stroll beside
let our garden exude love’s freshness unburdened
seal my proposal with your zeal of consent
plug this hole in my heart, as I make you whole
When the temperature drops
Cold fingers, feet and itchy scarves
King winter scattered snow over the country
Decorated, as the beauty it created
Ice cold sea crashes against the coast
See how the birds are struggling in the wind
Birds die of lack of food every winter
Blue Tit, Yellowhammer, House Sparrow, Robin and Brambling
Cold, strong wind and snowy branches
Each calorie counts,
to survive is a matter of finding food
No stockings or warm shoes
Do not worry, my little friends
On my birdboard there is food for everyone
13.12.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Nasty old man of privilege sneaks onto the morning meadow dawn
Accumulated wealth passed on from dad is immeasurable
And that which makes him too cheap to shop
A feathery delicacy is what he is after
Hobbling with Aqualung malice to snatch his prey
The duck wobbles plump and awkwardly on the rippling lake
Swirling winds mask the sounds on the approach
Snot gelatinous comes from the mans nose
Dribble from the lips proceed
A sneeze would kill the moment
He slips into the ice cold water on the sly
Stealth is on his side with dirty thoughts and matching hair
A wash cloth or soap had never touched his face before
This is the closest thing to clean he has ever been
The catch comes quickly about the neck
Stretched to the limits of life in a quick turn and snap
Dinner is served later with a rich black wine
No quack is left over or heard from that point on
Cognac with a fine Cuban cigar comes next to relax
After having duck a twisted smile emerges
Followed by curses
Wake up O Inhabitants of this Earth
Wake up before it is too late
Wake up before the misdeeds with Nature
Takes away with them, the best
And the most beautifully nourished and preserved
Our priceless and most precious wealth
The ice from Mountains, Glaciers and poles,
Water from the Rivers, Ponds and Lakes
Trees from Mountains, Oxygen from Air
Fishes and Dolphins, Blue Seals and Whales
Deer’s from fields and Tigers from Jungle
Birds from sky and animals from herds
Fragrance from flowers, fruits from trees
Koyal* and Nightingale to sing their melody
And above every thing, all the Seasons from Earth
Which inspires us to sing in joy
And thrill us to write poetry or to make love
Wake up O beautiful children of Nature
Before it is too late
Do not make plans to make roads up to Mount Everest peaks
Let us Make plans how to save the snow peaks
And our ever best friend plants and trees
The Rivers and Ponds, Glaciers and Jheels*
And above all let us also
Try to save our greatest wealth the seven Seas
And its innocent inhabitants
Who has given us foods and pleasures
Adventures, joys and thrills
With the ever precious gift of Rains
Which fills our Mother Earth with Water, Milk and grains
Wake up O beautiful children of Nature, before it is too late
Save our Rain forests, beautiful Glaciers and above all our climate
Before the Nature itself starts the process of changing
Without giving us the warning of its fury
Which can destroy our very existence from
This and this only place The Earth.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 9th December 2009
*Jheels ( A Hindi word means Lakes)
*A singing bird of India like Nightingale
Turning and dipping in graceful, acrobatic flight,
my spirit soars against a sky brilliantly blue;
from these heights, I view life in its completeness,
its complex boundaries and limitations sharply defined.
I maintain my composure, calm and unruffled by the storms . . .
I sail above the strife where the sun spreads warmth upon my wings.
From this lofty perspective, I watch over my dearest ones.
This clear air provides treasures of wisdom, beauties like the facets of precious jewels,
sparkling with the vibrance that makes joy complete;
I glean and feed them to my little ones, giving them nutrients to enrich their minds.
Home is my central focus.
I learn and implement all that I can to make my nest comfortable and complete,
a rich environment for growth.
Do not intrude; I protect what is mine.
© May 11, 2015, Faye Lanham Gibson
~A Most Beautiful Spring Day~
(Quatrain By Letters)
The most beautiful day has come again
There's so much for us to be thankful for
The butterflies & bees fly after the rain
There's so many more wonderful things in store
The hummingbirds get fed from flowers
The air is so very nice and mild today
The spring season can bring lots of showers
The children go out and some play all day
Tending the garden a nice thing to do
Trees and plants all turn green and grow
The sky is clear and so wonderfully blue
There's much enchantment in spring and that's so.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2012
January.15.2016
~Author's Notes:
"Quatrain by Letters" is a style created by Erich J. Goller.