Long Redbirds Poems
Long Redbirds Poems. Below are the most popular long Redbirds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Redbirds poems by poem length and keyword.
Mary Davis dwelled on a fruit farm, adoring the company of animals.
Most beloved was sociable Sam, who made her giggle, like bubbles!
Whereas Mary was seven-years-old, Sam, her lamb, was still a baby,
Given to Mary by best neighbors, when they played in orange daisies.
Sam's white fleece was soft and fluffy, like a mound of feather pillows;
Like clouds of endless, turquoise skies, blown by breezes, into billows.
Sweet-natured Sam and Mary's bond, was special. Soon inseperable!
As one, they chased sun; like heaven seen, through rainbow's portal.
Friends found fanciful, skipping Mary, in the far-out days of fabulous,
Under butterscotch sun of fascination, soon cherry red, as an amulet.
Fabled days told a faceted story of time, in faddish phases of flowers;
As family finished delaying finally, visiting dreamy, dusk's lemon sours.
Sam was usually someplace to be seen, but sometimes he wandered;
And Mary sought him out-like privacy loving night, soon squandered.
The 'sapphire tower' bore rich blooms, as 'zebrina lifesaver' remedied;
And 'sundrops primroses' were lingering, as the silken breeze hurried.
'Bee passion' blooms generated hysteria, with the fragrance of fairies;
As summer saluted lovely 'queen's tears.' Some nomads never marry!
Mary was feeling ill one day. It soon passed, but she was late to class.
It grew later, as she looked for steady, silent Sam, in tall, green grass.
Sam was nowhere about, though they always walked to school together.
Soon worried Mary found the school in uproar, like redbirds of a feather!
Sam was running from the teacher, in the classroom of much disarray;
As the children screamed with laughter, loving the opportunity to play!
Laughing herself, Mary coaxed Sam over. Glad to find her, Sam obeyed.
The chuckling teacher allowed Mary to take him home, where he stayed.
That day became a topic of legend and lore. A song was written about it.
It soon grew old and beloved, like a starbound comet, swift as a rocket!
'Mary had a little lamb;
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.'
Mark Allen was ten years old, and his favorite things were trains;
Like teal moments after the storm, when colorful beauty remains.
Mark had a shiny, toy train set, and he was frequently adding cars;
As people often have dreams of travel, underneath jewelled stars.
Mark's Papa was a train conductor. He loved to manage the train;
And Mark liked to listen for its whistle, while playing in Green Lane.
Dinah was Mark's little sister, and she'd give her toy horn a blast;
As she looked out the window with Mama, to see the train go past!
Flashing stars began fading away, in the mystic aura of fruity sun;
And fascinating friends came to frolick, when skies turned lemon.
Fall finally faced the cruel fact, that beautiful flowers were dying;
As fervent family flew in with kisses, in purple dawn sun, shining.
Mark lived in the house of motion, in the halls of going someplace;
And redbirds visiting sunny window sill, like summer at the gates.
Stars shivered in sad winter, although they were sequestered afar;
On the street of spectral beauties, intense and somewhat bizarre!
New neighbors observed social niceties, as necessary as nostalgia,
Sharing their notions into nighttime, like aurora borealis of Alaska.
'Rainbow rose' still cried dewy tears, as 'inky fingers' wrote forever;
And 'chocolate vines' caused temptation, in velvety hours of leisure.
'Money plant' jingled its coins, when 'aeonium superbang' exploded;
And 'shoebutton' plants got fastened, in sunny glaze, sugar coated.
Mark dreamt of being a railroad man, like the father he so admired,
One coral day, when fully grown; for golden time never grows tired!
'I've been working on the railroad,
All the live long day.
I've been working on the railroad,
Just to pass the time away.
Can't you hear the whistle blowing?
Rise up early in the morn.
Can't you hear the captain shouting?
"Dinah, blow your horn!"
Dinah, won't you blow,
Dinah, won't you blow,
Dinah, won't you blow your horn?
Dinah, won't you blow,
Dinah, won't you blow,
Dinah, won't you blow your horn?
Solid gray skies
Over daylilies trying to bloom
Several different species so colorful
Open only a day, live life to the fullest
What have I done with my nearly 29,151 days
Birds fly in
Mostly to feed from birdseeds
The feeders need a refill so they can eat
Those birds usually fly in, overfill before a rain
Another day of possible showers so they have to eat
Fresh seed put out
Mockingbirds zoom across flowerbeds
Land, catch a bug, zoom out
Another mockingbird lands on the cement
Bobbles along like a roadrunner
Redbirds flock in
Hit the red feeder that matches his color, perfect camouflage
Boy, he is eating gourmet food
From the buffet
Rakes out what he doesn't like
Sparrows fly in
Feast upon the discarded seed
That landed upon the cement
They gobble up those small seeds
Fill up in just a small amount of time
Female red cardinal
Flies in and lands on a wood feeder, aged, grayed with time
It seems to match her color perfectly
She is harder to see since she blends in
She fills up and flies away
Amazing
No susurrus in the pines
No crows cawing all the time
Just the symphony of songbirds tickling my ears
And the cymbals clanging out woodpecker's notes
A few minutes out on the porch
How it makes my day
Now a zephyr begins to move
Stirring the asparagus and spirea
Wow! A break in the clouds.
The sunlight beams
Casting its morning light
Across my wildest dreams
A flower garden with more plants
To feed the birds, bees and butterflies
Thank you
God for your creation
For your gift of flowers
A mixture of clouds, rain and sunshine
All of life upon this earth
The warm evening breeze
Caresses my skin as I sit
Beneath the old garden elm.
The chatter of birds echoes
Through the trees as they perform
Their spring mating ritual.
Redbirds, mocking-jays, and hummers
Scurry from limb to limb, jealously
Chasing foe from new-found lovers.
Enjoying the serious antics,
I hear the voice of the mourning dove
Calling its forever mate in the distance.
My thoughts turn to my own mate.
No longer within my sight
I remember your every detail as last seen.
You have left me as a bird in winter:
Sure to return to this nest
As time marches slowly,
And yet I ponder the burning question
Weighing upon my soul.
"Did you take out the trash, Dear?"
Olivia, Olivia, the stars ever bow to ya,
And glow like the eyes of Kind Korea;
And roses ever fall at your feet!
For now you're among heaven's elite.
By middle name Judy, you were known;
And now the fields have overgrown;
Since the days of country lane,
And Papa coming on his cane.
You're Queen of Hearts, Olivia Judith Queen,
Though you never graced a movie screen;
Since the redbirds sing of you,
And since pale skies are suddenly blue.
Your memory brightly shines in all our lives,
As a flower does when summer arrives;
And the long winter has ended,
And our broken hearts have been mended.
Persistence of memory is ever strong,
And forever plays its heart song,
And the setting sun leaves traces of its beauty,
And traces of you...Queen Judy.
In loving memory of my late aunt, Olivia Judith Queen (my namesake), who passed away in 1999.
S-tars whirling through midnight black skies, whitely,
U-rged on by the Milky Way, twinkling quite brightly.
M-adcap moon in a romance dance over sapphire earth,
M-eaningful though mild, in the precincts of her birth!
E-arly morning lemon clouds sweep by tall mountaintops,
R-acing the redbirds, as emerald toads do froggy hops.
D-aily masquerade ball of a red sun's splash and dash,
A-nd the mysterious wind, giving vivid blooms whiplash!
N-ebulous green waves, undulate seductively into foam,
C-ameo appearances of butterflies, in acutely green homes.
E-ach noon intensely golden, each tango new, though olden!
Bright sunshine dappled
at the gay affair,
in a park so green.
There was revelry,
laughter, food and dance,
and at times romance.
The blooms blazed colors,
lit up by the sun.
The happy children
chased the hued balloons.
Ice cream, cookout, fun-
and sun, sun, sun, sun!
The dogs chased frisbees,
and the babies crawled
in grass very green.
Gliding on sunshine,
redbirds sang amour,
and the festival
went on into night!
Then fireworks lit skies,
like the sunshine as
it is departing,
to close one more day!
Written on 4/8/2021
For: Anacreontic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Samuel Woodruff was a very old man, who once drummed for the army;
That marched to his rhythmic music, along with all fifers, playing hearty.
That was a lifetime ago, in dawn days so pink, golden, and richly green;
Like petal strewn time moving backward, to the premiere, pivotal scene.
Samuel never stopped playing drums, like mulberry heartbeats of sunset,
And played them after his daily walks; like the love you will never forget.
His fast friend, Comet, followed him, through fields of fascination flowers;
As he made up ditties to match the beat, of the flaming, futuristic hours.
Of faithful family, Sam had none, but for his fond, faddish sister, Pauline;
Who felt every fandangle pulse of summer, like allure on the silver screen.
Sam lived in the house of memories, of past and present changing places;
Where often rolling thunder was noted, like apricot roses, in cream vases.
Starlight snuck in windows, on a street that never seemed to say goodbye;
As sophisticated moon adored supper music, of redbirds, next to ebon sky.
Neighbor children noticed Sam's ditties, and often trailed behind to listen,
To each verse of nostalgia, featuring him. They loved all the fun repetition!
'Mad dog skullcaps' were running amok, when black-eyed Susans, sparkled;
And bright daffodils recalled Narcissus, when magenta butterflies, startled.
'Cupid's dart' flowers were hitting the mark, working magic in love potions;
While chrysanthemums spread the 'truth,' in vivid colors, of every emotion.
Samuel was heading home, one weekend day, and a huge crowd followed;
Comprised of both children and adults, like pretty colors, sunset swallowed.
The people sang along and clapped with Sam, to the song so easy to learn,
As Sam played his drum to the march, elated with sweet memory's return!
Many years have gone since then, and though Samuel's no longer around,
Folks still march while singing his song; as violets spring from the ground.
'This old man, he played one,
He played knick-knack on my thumb,
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.'
Jack Sprat and wife Mary, lived in a glory of lemony, chiffon days;
Like maroon birds keep on singing, until the sunset, orange phase.
They were comfy and happy, like a picnic in lavish, emerald grass;
And had a black dog and a calico cat, like red Mars making a pass.
While Jack was a large man, his beloved wife, contrarily, was tiny.
They gardened after church on Sundays, as sweet time went slyly.
At the mauve hour of dinner, they enjoyed each other's company,
As well as a single glass of wine, while the animals played clumsily.
February fawned over early flowers, smiling fondly into sun's face;
As friends came in feathered hats and finery, through jaded grace.
Floating fuchsia clouds were frilly, in futuristic times of red sunset;
And family visited the fun hours. Moon pearls were not falling yet!
They lived in the house of amenity, like living with ones most loved;
And a fireside welcomed evenings, under skies with dyes smudged.
Swift, strawberry seasons were somewhat surprising, and sudden,
On their street of purple sage. Redbirds visited by striking dozens.
Noteworthy navy blue twilights brought nearby neighbors, laughing;
And new night was bejeweled with stars, that were forever flashing.
Frolicksome freesias were in full boom, in pretty, prismatic colors,
In dusky days of dandelion delight, when sun rays crept in shutters.
Rainbow eucalyptus trees enchanted, as if glossing skies had fallen;
When 'strangler figs' wreaked crime after crime, noted by red robin.
Jack Sprat and Mary received bad news, within months of each other!
The doctor placed Jack on a strict diet, so his health would not suffer.
And Mary, who was undernourished, was told to eat more, and often!
She and Jack vowed to obey doctor's orders, like tonic rains of Austin.
Jack began to eat less and lose weight, and Mary made tasty meals;
And gained weight and hale vigor, like when purple sun's colors peel.
'Jack Sprat could eat no fat.
His wife could eat no lean.
And so between them both, you see,
They licked the platter clean.'
Sunshine grows men on ropes
Similar with metaphors and similes
And cold plastic smiles.
Slim, shiny, at first slimy, Then…
Then mass produced body index
Fat and hypertension deficit syndrome-o-matic.
Failure due to faulty, underfunded, cheap union labor parts.
Broken and glued
taped back
to the semi-flaccid meat bag’s parts
Ad nauseam,
But worth regurgitating
for the sake of curiosity’s infinite lives.
Will you spare a tired old man a dozen redbirds?
All dead and empty.
Ad nauseam.
Entering ourselves head first, strong
Into the green-blue gluttonous mausoleum nausoleum
With fancy golden embryo.
Embryo cold ,
with teeth chattering loose,
Broken from gnawing the misconceived development
Of a prenatal worm-child.
The background was aforementioned “Thus”.
Inter-missionary positions
on all seeing eyed pyramids
Connect myriads of the labyrinth.
Run for cover before the light breaks the shadow fault line
Of what is right and what is written
Because I can’t bear to tell you what is wrong.
Sunshine grows ropes on men
different from the same old, same old.
Mad at the world because like opinions and ideas and optimism
And a general surety of a done deal.
Nothing is relative to Uncle Certain.
Just Aunt Be.
Hollow minds can only feed hollow stomachs
From the, “Why did they even come here?”
Go back home to your party fanciful.
If you think it’s you then why are you still here
Under the tree that shades us from falling
Birthmark razorblade sweet tarts.
It all starts over and over.