Long Goldfinch Poems
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I was trudging home around one o' clock
and on the frosted grass, I spotted
a goldfinch shivering and slowly warbling:
he had strayed from his nest and couldn't find
his way back home, I breathed on him and took
him inside and suddenly he stopped moaning.
The trembling goldfinch with pretty sea-blue eyes
looked at me tenderly ant that was his way of saying,
" Thank you "; I patted him with tenderness,
but he thought I would put him in a cage in the next room
where my last bird escaped gaining his freedom;
I whispered to him," This is your home, not your prison!"
The response of the goldfinch was a delightful chirping
he started to flap around without any rule or restriction...
and yet he was feeling sad and lonely like an Adam
without an Eve and desperately needed a companion.
" Spring is only two weeks away and you'll find
your sweetheart again waiting for you outside! "
His joy was overwhelming and he started flying around...
he was fine, his pain went away restoring his lost pride.
.
Stranded courtesy bittercold without food or drink
Dire straits necessitated
yours truly to bethink
outside the box (literally outdoors
of squarish structured nested dwelling),
where blinding albedo effect
forced me to blink,
additionally also ruffled tail feathers
of this sole surviving male bobolink
(North American songbird,
Dolichonyx oryzivorus)
pushing survival species
to extinction brink,
thus series of unfortunate events
woke resident chewink
(North American bird,
Pipilo erythrophthalmus
also called: towhee
or ground-robin),
tweeted from within
his cozy armoire chink
polar vortex froze habitat,
whereby arctic wind found
brushy areas to clink
unwittingly brambles ferocious
waving circular rotation
wrought minuscule countersink
eh, no bigger than a cufflink
his ornate bejeweled complex edifice
compliments of sizable income
allowed, enabled, and provided
opportunity in tandem
with significant other
to create acronym named dink
(dual income without kid)
acquiring handsome combined income
rendering and selling stylized goldfinch
also known as distelfink
common motif in
hex signs and fraktur,
which interpretive native folk art
eye state meaningless
without rhyme nor reason,
superfluous gibberish by George,
and/or...well... courtesy
following more purposeless gobbledygook
defying poetaster to incorporate doublethink
intelligently nsync with downlink
playfully, jauntily, and deliberately
creating confounding badinage eyewink
at thee, no doubt many
an anonymous innocent
reader calling me ratfink
under their breath or more
colorful brutal appellation
inducing cheeks of unknown followers
turning fifty plus shades of firepink
moost definitely concurring gink
perfectly apropos description
concluded individually versus
collectively, quickly, and
unanimously i.e. (think) groupthink
I approve this entire message, which
most likely tinders pet peeve,
concluding GoDaddy liberally did hoodwink.
Gravely digging the grave digger digs
holes for souls; waste pits plotted
earth soils clogging
Collections of bones for storage and mind
Disposal in disguise
Many a form, Goldfinch alike, are left
in place of death; laying spent, shrivelled
dishevelled, colours still abright
I wasn't going to dig a hole so I left it
where it lay; no-one will dig for its soul
No grave digger digs such a small pit
No respect, no clogging, no digging
Instead the finches are left
along with the Linnet, the Thrush, the Owl
and the Crow; destined to be sucked back
into nature's cauldron
to go wherever birds go
A bird is visiting my yard
One that I have never seen before
Eating from the ground so vigorously
Pecking like a Sandpiper or a Woodpecker
That pecks on a tree
Looks like a Woodpecker
But not exactly and there are really four
I suppose there could be more
He has the ladder back
On his back, and a long strong thick beak
A red spot below his head
On the top of his back its said
His upper chest or top of the breast
A half moon as dark as night
Accented on the bottom half by mostly white
He works and works pecking the ground
Why he almost wears me down
Now he's joined by a goldfinch
Of such a brilliant hue
A male Bluebird eats undistrubed too
When the mystery bird takes
To flight on his tail there is a spot of white
I could watch him all the day
But responsibility calls me away
(My daughter said her husband said that it is a Northern Flicker and I looked it up and the
pictures of the Northern Flicker match what I am seeing.)
Form:
Quiet ... to ... Hush ...
Quiet ... to ... Hush ...
The Butterfly wings gently over the flowers
As the Flute whispers in the wind ...
Soft ... to ... Gentle ...
Soft ... to ... Gentle ...
The Goldfinch warbles its song across the lake
And the Strings add their rhythmic hum ...
Mild ... to ... Mellow ...
Mild ... to ... Mellow ...
The Crickets click their heels as evening falls
While a solitary Drum holds court in melodic bass ...
Rest ... to ... Calm ...
Rest ... to ... Calm ...
The Trees sway in cadence with the breeze
So, Too, the tinkling of Bells chime in their harmony ...
Caress ... to ... Love ...
Caress ... to ... Love ...
A Teardrop warms its cheeky path
For the Symphony has touched a Heart ...
Stranded in bittercold without food or drink...
Though the following
twittering scenario quite absurd,
methought diehard adherents of mine
(intimation also quite far-fetched),
some unnamed readers insomnia
nevertheless could benefit courtesy
a thought provoking tweet
east of Eden heard.
Dire straits necessitated
yours truly to be atypical and think
outside the box (literally outdoors
of squarish structured nested dwelling),
where blinding albedo effect
forced me to blink,
additionally also ruffled tail feathers
of this sole surviving male bobolink
(North American songbird,
Dolichonyx oryzivorus)
pushing survival species
to extinction brink,
thus series of unfortunate events
woke resident chewink
(North American bird,
Pipilo erythrophthalmus
also called: towhee
or ground-robin),
tweeted from within
his cozy armoire chink
polar vortex froze habitat,
whereby arctic wind found
brushy areas to clink
unwittingly brambles ferocious
waving circular rotation
wrought minuscule countersink
eh, no bigger than a cufflink
his ornate bejeweled complex edifice
compliments of sizable income
allowed, enabled, and provided
opportunity in tandem
with significant other
to create acronym named DINK
(dual income no kid)
acquiring handsome combined income
rendering and selling stylized goldfinch
also known as distelfink
common motif in
hex signs and fraktur,
which interpretive native folk art
eye state meaningless
without rhyme nor reason,
superfluous gibberish by George,
and/or...well... courtesy
following purposeless gobbledygook
defying poetaster to incorporate doublethink
intelligently nsync with downlink
playfully, jauntily, and deliberately
creating confounding badinage eye wink
at thee, no doubt many
an anonymous innocent
reader calling me rat fink
(Ed “Big Daddy” Roth's child)
under their breath or more
colorful brutal appellation
inducing cheeks of unknown followers
turning fifty plus shades of firepink
moost definitely concurring gink
perfectly apropos description
concluded individually versus
collectively, quickly, and
unanimously i.e. (think) groupthink
I approve this entire message, which
most likely tinders pet peeve,
concluding GoDaddy
go tell Aunt Rhody
yours wittily, truly,
quirkily, nervously, jokingly
attempted to hoodwink.
At least, let us both walk
alone with eyes open
and ready for every surprise
that nature has in store today,
and let us imagine our quiet, shared
conversation
as we traverse the woods
hopping to hear an owl,
or spot a purple finch,
maybe even,
an American goldfinch.
(They don't blend in,
after all).
I would love to spot
something rare or vivid
or yellow with a woman
who knows infinitely more
about everything
that chirps, croaks,
scuttles, and sways.
Adelola, Adelola, Adelola
Your name could be the
morning song
of a mourning dove.
Adelola, like all things in nature
you belong and sing your own
beautiful song.
On my walk with you
I will dig out red jasper
from the tough southern clay
and offer it to you, warm
from the Carolina sun.
On my walk with you,
I will make you a bouquet
of short bamboo stalks,
white jasmine, buttercups,
and azaleas (even though
they will be wilted by
tomorrow).
I will tie your bouquet with
the strongest grass
growing down by the pond.
I will paint you
down by the pond
in watercolor
after you teach me
about all the living
organisms we can
and cannot see.
You are a more useful human
than those that hoard plastic
treasures, fancy clothes, and
colorful, fashionable stuff.
You give, and your heart
is always full.
I'll flick all the bugs
off of you
and smile
at the ladybug
on your shoulder
(the lucky girl).
Nothing will make
my Adelola stumble
or trip while we
are walking together.
You are a woman of true grit
who loves the earth she walks on,
who gives all to her children
as the most altruistic animals do.
Adelola, you are
the African elephant:
always on a rescue mission,
or, if you prefer water,
the dolphin:
marine superhero
to the rescue!
Adelola, you are
the African bat
feeding the hungrier
bats around you.
You are much lovelier
than the bonobo,
but you share the same
loving qualities
for social harmony
that God smiles down on.
He has never
stopped smiling down
and up, and through you,
my Adelola.
Happy birthday
to an extraordinary woman
whom I will never meet
but like my grandmother,
I hope God will introduce me to
in heaven.
Baby birds cheeping in treetops high, mellow yellow,
Whippoorwills' song when even is nigh, red sunset glow,
Raucous crows in the hot noon sun, deep orange gold,
Humming bees in blazing wildflowers, dark green wold!
Seagulls' elegant glide over pounding surf, royal blue,
Crickets calling through a summer night, a black revue,
Loons hooting across transparent lake, twilight purple,
And cardinal chirps lonely songs, in pink crape myrtle!
Parrots squawk away the sunny hours, of forests green,
Nightingales sing forever and a day, white moonbeams,
Humming bird emblazons the peony bush, pretty pink,
Goldfinch trills on desert bush, as orange sun slinks!
I am calling it free verse because I did not try to follow a poetic form to write it.
Yellow glow illuminates the horizon
Silhouetting all the skeletal trees
Revealing in the valley below
White frost coating all the leaves
A pale glow brings this day to life
Then brushstrokes of red appear
The Master Artist through His omniscience knew
This beauty my spirit would cheer
The colors reminded me of yesterday
When a yellow bird high up in the tree stood
Mixed within a flock of sparrows
He was there for my spirit's good
I can compare him to the rising sun
High in the poplar tree
Yet, he was so small in comparison
Not much more than a tiny bee
Yellow bird landed upon the ground
The whole flock joined as they fed
Maybe he was a pine warbler
Or perhaps a tiny goldfinch instead
When they saw my Ratcha*
They all took to the sky and fled
Yellow bird high in the poplar tree
Yellow bird sitting alone like me
Glad that you could fly away
Please come again another day
Come and visit to drive away
Lonely feelings each day
Yellow bird come to visit me
Soothing my universe within
Slow down the comet whizzing
Slow down the asteroid hitting
Thank you yellow bird
Thank you once again
*Ratcha...a mixed dog breed__Rat terrier and chihuahua
Finis'
I am in a writing mood
But someone wants me to fix some food
I had a line that I hadn't forgot
Someone wanted me to check the clock
I love these moods when words just flow
Someone stepped on my toe
The rain pours down in continous rhyme
But right now I haven't got the thyme
The thyme slows down in January
And I can enjoy the singing Canary
Or Goldfinch as it feeds on Rebeckia
A dash of yellow on bleak cloudy Yucca
Slip out on the porch in damp and cold
Just what I need to restore my soul
Green is showing on Japanese Magnolia
Buds are popping and really acromegaly
Star Magnolia what a treat
Buds could be open in a week
But I know within my heart
Colder must come before spring starts
Out on the porch one more time
God granted me a few more rhymes