Long Feeder Poems
Long Feeder Poems. Below are the most popular long Feeder by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Feeder poems by poem length and keyword.
Whee whoo
Whee whoo
The birds call to each other.
EEp EEp
Whee Whee
A black bird with a bit of red
Flies in to have a bit of breakfast.
Whee Whee Whee Whee
Leep Leep Leep
The black bird has flown away,
The feeder is spinning from his
Quick exit.
EEp EEp Whipper Whipper
Whee Whee Whee Whee
A cardinal swoops in, he
Is bright red, so I know he’s a he.
He starts at the top of the tree, hopping
Down branch by branch until he
Arrives at the same bird feeder.
I have six feeders, and yet, all of the birds
Seem to prefer this one.
Kee Kee Kee Kee
Three Three Three Three
Chee Chee Chee Chee
A dog barks in the distance.
A bluejay flies in.
Lands on the feeder.
An unpopular bird; he does not care.
He knows he is welcome here.
People are murdered, yes, but no one was murdered here today.
People are mean.
Not always.
People are unfair, unkind, disrespectful.
Who are you hanging around with?
Let’s think a bit about what Albright said.
We can choose to be upbeat, positive, happy.
We can strive toward enthusiasm, happiness, hope.
Cut those people loose. You can do better!
Let’s take a walk. Feel the sunshine? See the happy dandelions?
There goes a squirrel who is delighted with the bird feeder.
Who could dream up anything perkier than that daffodil?
Have you ever seen a more refreshing green?
How are you feeling?
I am feeling depressed, down, dank, dark.
What is going on?
I don’t have any friends like you. I don’t know how to have joy.
Stick with me, kid. I am here to reteach. Look at that sky!
How do you do that? She asks me.
Do what?
Remain positive.
I think for a second, then I reply. “I focus on positive things.”
She is silent for a few steps. Then she asks “That’s it?”
“Try it,” I tell her. “It is enough.”
The backyard feeder for the birds
Brought squirrels who, for sure,
Believed that with some cast-off seeds
They certainly would score.
For months that worked for everyone
Until that fateful day
I looked outside to see
That squirrels can be local prey.
For right below the feeder,
A coyote stood his ground,
Then grabbed a fresh-killed squirrel
‘Fore he vanished with a bound.
I haven’t filled the feeder since
Nor ventured out to sit,
But it’s so lovely weather-wise,
I’m outside for a bit.
As soon as I sat down, three birds
Came swooping in for seed,
But with some squirrels realized
I had not fulfilled their need.
It’s sad that one coyote
Stole the pleasure we have missed,
Yet both predators and prey, I guess,
Both need to coexist.
While on phone church Covid style
While my eyes follow the line of the psalm,
I fret about a fixture of the day.
Something I forgot fills me with alarm
a distraction prompting a need to pray.
Listening to a reading from Isaiah
my eyes upon a woodpecker alight
as it stabs the nuts in the bird feeder:
a striking bird to fill me with delight.
God given senses bring all together:
Psalms and readings of scripture correlate,
interweaving the fabric of nature
with worry about a calendar date.
Pulling such diverse strands into the whole,
oblique is the way that prayer feeds my soul.
Whispers and sighs, softest of smiles
Reveal the music playing in the heart.
Beautiful rhymes, soothing the nights,
Stirring joy, faith and love –
Breaths of prayers, some silent,
Some echoes of a distant pain,
Some messages from the autumn skies,
Drifting leaves – gentle goodbyes,
Southern nights …
Surreal, gushing, flowing satisfactions,
Guitars grieving in the colors,
Hues of wonder, feelings to ponder,
Deafening the winter’s deception.
When the moonlight erases night’s shadows,
Soothing the melancholy, bleeding
Beautiful into the silence, where still, cool tattoos –
Invite reflections of the songs, harmony
Hopeful like the grieving cardinal who knows,
Just knows his wife is still there, aware.
Though she lies in a quiet grave,
Beneath the oaks where she swallowed
So many seeds, so many delicacies,
Risks impending, she was so sentimental,
Nibbling at the feeder where she’d see…
The end of her life, as she fell to her demise,
Leaving a husband who’d be heartbroken,
Despairing, dejected, distraught – feelings in black,
Showing a heart who felt the lack – gone from his life,
The wife he’d loved more than he could rationalize…
This is the kind of love that stills the nights,
Calms the darkness and dispels every doubting soul.
This is the love that reassures and restores,
Makes a way through the sorrows that come,
Proof positive that, together – two can be as one,
One heart, one soul – one moment
Accidental, spontaneous – love that lasts,
Because this is the love that God has truly blessed!
The wedding ceremony is over…
to the world we’ve added a new husband and wife.
The cabin has returned to normal and everyone’s gone back to their life.
As I sit on the porch in the quiet..watching birds at the feeder…I’m enthralled
as the trees continue to change color and their leaves continue to fall…
I once believed when it came to humans…
across the oceans…across time…across history…
every person everywhere was part of the one and only human family tree.
A tree that’s constantly changing in its effort to grow strong and tall
Welcoming new buds in Spring…to replace the leaves they’ve lost in the fall.
But sitting here among a multitude of trees…
noticing the distinct branches, limbs and leaves…
I’m thinking of the world a little differently…altering what I once believed.
What if every human family is part of their own distinct family tree
whether they’re evergreen…or lose their leaves in the Fall….
and what if under all these different family trees…it’s the roots that connect us all.
Which means we all share what gives us life…allowing each and every family tree
knowing we are all connected…to retain our individuality.
What if we’re meant to share between us…the sun, the rain, the drops of morning dew
our buds, our branches our leaves and our limbs as all trees were created to do.
Which brings me to the reason for this poem…to Trista…Damiens wife
Perhaps the most beautiful words you will ever hear…
or, if you’re reading this…will see
Are:
We love you…and we’re overjoyed to welcome you to our family tree.
As I sit on the porch in the quiet watching the birds feed and the colors of Autumn fall
I can already see how this new leaf makes our family tree a little brighter…
and I can’t help but be enthralled.
Winter's Slumber Contest
Regina McIntosh
Winter's slumber has me in cozy places, warm and comforted
I am grateful for the wood fire that burns, many blankets I have
So many things to help me get through the bitter cold
The wind that howls through the woods and all the piles of snow
It is the season to hunker down, giving time to reflect on past events
To plan positive things for the days ahead, to process methodically
A time to be grateful for new things and old creative talents
Still, the sun shines on many cold days, rising with endurance
As it creates sparkling stars in the pure, white, snow
Showing beauty bypasses the battles of the cold weather
I awaken from slumber on these stark, beautiful, days
Birds come to the feeder, as I watch the show through frosty windows
A colorful picture filled with songs, alert my senses to see and hear
It is a time to cherish the shelter of this safe home
To appreciate all there is when the world is cold outside
A time for rest, a time for relaxation, a time to enhance intuition
It is a contrast of kindness and bitterness, calmness and fierceness
The power of patience, granted by the bulbs, waiting to bloom in spring
12/26/23
Windows open
A slight breeze teases
The hair on my legs
Goose bumps jockey
For position
A neighbor’s cat
Plots its escape
A racoon is taken away
In “paw” cuffs
A squirrel shakes the bird feeder
Sparrows wait below
A passing dog
Leaves another “blonde spot”
On my alleged “lawn”
An old Dodge Charger revs angrily
At the silence of the Tesla
Two crows make a mockery
Of the debate
I pause for an imaginary commercial
Alas there is no mute button for nature
Some guy in Minnesota
Wants to buy my house
My “check engine” lite came on
I checked
It’s still there
Well, gotta go change
The fish tank water
It hasn’t been the same
Since they went to school
Paying forward kindnesses done...
courtesy family, friend or stranger
Appreciative when nonagenarian
papa telepathically hears me yelp
and/or non twisted sisters,
who time and again offered
unsolicited beneficial help.
Indeed unable to reciprocate
that's not quite all he wrote
when kith/kin allotted this ole goat
specie, paper money, and bank note
I experienced collateral
fallout unable to float
mine vessel, nor without
ability to emote,
thus underwent "non Fake,"
agony, I don't sugar coat
albeit analogy to sinking boat
(think Lusitania), thus
this scrivener doth gloat,
whenever he proffers
random act of kindness,
yet never can match,
nor approximate sum total denote
ting cumulative countless
dire straits immediate family
came to rescue one lame
(damn silly word wizard),
whose destiny when graphed
resembles infinitely jesting asymptote
approaching, but never
reaching financial solvency.
Hence yours truly doth attend
impossible mission to contend
despite contrary rumors,
he doth really wish to extend
to assist family member friend
Romans, countrymen, yes to lend,
(or lease) helping hand to mend
ever widening gap,
when charity bestowed
payback doth equal
obligated (boot unable) to spend
small fortune in order to secure
necessary Brownie points
approximating largesse describing
series of fortunate events that didst trend
all throughout mein kampf thee end!
Ha... ha... tricked you dear reader
yea me annoying
as mosquito buzz feeder
of Fake news, who
unfortunately happens tubby,
our crudely inept, mishuga,
and vulgar leader,
he doth trumpet disinformation
fast as rabbit breeder.
Whenever ripe opportunity doth arise
to avail - even toward
someone I might despise,
whether gendered person(s)
gals and/or guise
self satisfaction awakes to realize
to give unconditionally and tries
affecting humanity positively
free effort plus also wise.
sometimes we wish the freedom of sunset's pink clouds
that cross the sky in ribbons
sometimes one urge piles on top of another,
the gathering bounty of spring
like
an urge to run through April rain, overcoming arthritic pain,
an idle wanderer within
an urge to shake off the Blues like Jello loosened from its mold
an urge to spring clean clutter, messy like seaweed draped
over a walrus
an urge to stifle stress that sizzles like bacon frying,
displacing contentment
an urge to flush a slush pile of "to do's" that gag sleep
an urge to watch birds at the feeder, tutored travelers
chattily sharing stories
an urge to inhale the solemnity of church to void
the wounds
of striving
no longer subdued by the clean clasps of cold,
nature nudges newness into empty spaces
for winter leaving lifts the script of cold unforgiving,
like a child reciting rhymes
Poem composed April 17, 2023