Long Wingspan Poems
Long Wingspan Poems. Below are the most popular long Wingspan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wingspan poems by poem length and keyword.
Velvet heart romantics sensual bounce,
embolden relish despite an North Pole
shiver amid the snowfall prism awning.
Love-in-a-mist, synonym on damp Earth
ground clay akin to scented daybreak
usher sown wistfully underneath a
picturesque garden card sweet ritual.
Deep violet iris clusters bumper crop
of white and yellow matchmaker pollen.
Wondrous daffodil orange hue amply shades
it on charm-laden eye bright lustre omen.
Boundary wall purple clad aesthetic for
just we two human link chain jubilance.
Beyond this amorous enchantment other
panoramic backdrops herald visual gems.
Lesser redpoll cinnamon-brown twig perch
Black warblers stone grey plumage swoop,
forage and sequester round each broadleaf
tree golden orb seed wide arc lure,
fruit and berry composite on hedgerow
another hungry wild bird pristine cache.
Wether valentines bewitching red dawn eros,
that raw bone ice chill plummet or
iridescent wingspan proud horizon flyer,
February’s an opus-ridden flagship bookmark
Old Post date ; 7th February 2022
This contest post date ; 28th August 2022
Contest Name ; Free Verse - Old Or New
Sponsor ; Joseph May
In the land of golden sunshine, where the waves do crash,
There lies a tranquil beauty, a Californian marsh.
Where waters shimmer softly, reflecting skies so blue,
A haven for the creatures, and a sanctuary too.
The marshland breathes with life, a chorus of birdsong,
As egrets gracefully wade, camly gliding along.
Their wingspan wide and elegant, in search of their delight,
In this marshland sanctuary, where nature takes its flight.
The reeds sway gently in the breeze, whispering their tale,
Of ancient times and stories, in this mystical wetland trail.
The scent of salty ocean, mingling with the earth,
Creates a fragrant symphony, celebrating marshland's birth.
Amongst the vibrant colors, where wildflowers bloom,
Butterflies dance in harmony, dispelling any gloom.
Dragonflies in vibrant hues, zip and dart with grace,
As they skim the marshland's surface, a ballet in space.
Beneath the calm and peaceful waters, secrets are concealed,
As fish and turtles glide, their presence unrevealed.
The marshland is a treasure, a fragile ecosystem,
Where harmony and balance thrive, nature's precious prism.
So let’s cherish this marshland, this Californian gem,
Protect its fragile beauty, let its spirit never dim.
For in its tranquil embrace, we find solace and peace,
A refuge for all creatures, where nature's wonders never cease.
Our wing span is six to eight feet
Our V-formation cannot be beat
We fly from the Ukraine to Germany
Winters are spent in North Africa you see
Our wings flap all the way across the sea
Our long legs rest as we travel in our vee.
We soar on thermal currents when over land
High altitudes help us glide in our little band.
We are the Eurasian Cranes, pleased to meet you.
Our hairy crest announces our type quickly too.
We can fly as high as thirty-three thousand feet.
Our socialization skills are to be envied, they are sweet.
If you want to see us, come to the Ukraine.
You can hike, walk, or take the holiday train.
When you see a large pterodactyl-like bird up in the sky.
With a huge wingspan, it is probably us, gliding by.
A lbatross a wandering ~ the largest bird up in the sky
L ongest wingspan ever seen ‘twixt eight foot three to eleven foot six
B reeding is the only time I'm touching down on terra firma
A ged sixty years or more with just one mate whom I adore
T o kill me, legends say, your life would end without a friend
R ejoicing mariners safe with me until their journey ends
O ver oceans I will soar whilst sleeping on the wing
S upernatural some believe, protecting oceans far and wide
S oaring gliding elegantly an awesome sight when in full flight
Written 9th July 2020
Contest Bird
Sponsor Constance La France
4th Place
Contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE 38
Sponsor Brian Strand
I am the most regal bird you’ll ever see in the land
With my spectacular plumage, I’m pompous and grand
My mate is quite dowdy as all her feathers are brown
But we have royal connections as we both wear a crown!
Did you know that my tail feathers are known as a train
Of course I need no encouragement to show it off again!
My train’s got over fifty ocelli which means simple eyes
and when I fly high into the sky folk look up in surprise
I’m one of the largest flying birds ever known to man
With my enormous tail I’ve got a five foot wingspan
Yes, I’m a proud peacock and it’s no wonder folk stare
when I strut round palace gardens with my tail in the air
I ignore all other birds, they think I’m nasty and snide -
so an apt noun for us peacocks is an ostentation or pride!
I am a Bird - Personification Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
07/24/20
gushing through, rushing in,
hearts will move above all sin,
you cannot see, you cannot fortell,
as it pushes you by force and sound,
whipping in, you whip around,
keeping your feet on solid ground,
by faith pointing from the direction it came,
practicing balance through storm and rain,
it takes you here, it takes you there,
like a trap it pulls you to its snare,
you see, you hide, but then come face to face,
you find the mask behind the face,
you stand in the middle, he takes you there,
this heart will pierce its hardened stare,
he sends you angels to guard and fight,
to protect you with his strength and might,
these warriors stand guard, and with armor can withstand,
they block its force with their awesome wingspan,
with beauty and love, you see these gentle wings spread,
with feathers made of iron they protect love instead,
as the storms force rushes in, its deceived by its look,
for these wings of beauty cannot be shook,
as it approaches full force, it thinks it can win,
it looks weak from a distance as it rushes in,
but as it draws near, it picks up its pace,
the force can't pull away from the speed of its race,
it believes it can conquer its weakened prey,
until drawn in too close, it cannot run away,
methodically planned to tear this house down,
but it cannot see into this holy ground,
its focus, its charging with only one eye to see,
until it steps in too close, the iron breaks its debree,
love and honor stand strong, beat at its own game,
for the righteous overcome its winds and its rains,
it captures the heart and puts it back into place,
praising him in worship as you sit through these rains,
know your protection, stand with its ground,
speak it in, and then speak it out,
confirm with the heart, his words are alive,
allowing the spirit to fill and then rise,
the battleground shakes, these chains break and fall,
with the words of his spirit, winds whispering call.
( An old poem, slightly modified)
How I wish my poems could,
soar higher and higher
like a bird of limitless wingspan,
dashing into horizons far!
But they skim like web footed water birds,
tilting their wings in vain,
unable to fly to any desired destination
helplessly watching larks and eagles
flying to the far edges of the sky.
How I wish my poems could,
sail across the limitless expanse
like parting ships bound to distant lands
carrying my fancies to the ends of the Earth!
But they remain like paper boats
set to sail by mischievous kids
that drift hither n’ thither on muddy puddles.
How I wish my poems could,
wind their way down slopes and dales
like a fountain stream running down
to join the sea, travelling miles.
But they slither like snakes,
struggling to move on polished floors.
How I wish my poems could,
grow out from chrysalis to butterflies
to flit around flowers and feed on nectar.
But they ever remain such creepy worms,
destined to hide behind blades of leaves.
How I wish, like an inspired artist,
I could paint on my canvas, with deft hands,
the luster and glory of the setting sun,
the freshness and beauty of the spring flowers
the scary grandeur of the mountains
the silence of the lonesome lagoon
the dark majesty of the unlit groves
the sunlit glades of trackless forests
and scenes and sights, so varied and myriad
that I could array before you in magic shades,
the wonders of an unseen paradise!
But, Alas! What I leave on my canvas
is just a banal scene!
My poems, like kites tangled,
among the branches of trees
are denied forward movement!
Still I don’t regret my efforts…..
Like the lyrics of a half forgotten melody,
my poems delight me,
in my sequestered hours of loneliness!
Hail to you, Mr. Eagle:
You're a national treasure
By monetary measure--
On the back of our dollar
Symbolism plain to history scholars.
Thirteen stars float above you
The first colonies do so glow
Twelve arrows in your claw down low
The Nation of Israel's Tribes for to show.
Hail to you, Mr. Eagle;
How you soar as you fly
Massive wingspan seeking
Nirvana high in the sky.
Torpedo-like you dive for your prey
Scattering innocent creatures in your way
As you eye the target of your next feast
Never pausing to reflect in the least
That the olive branch you clutch in your claw
Is an anomaly bizarre, unlike the lucky law
That protects you from hunters--
Your anguished caw eternal
Were it to exit your maw.
Hail to you, Mr. Eagle:
Denizen of ethereal regions of azure-blue sky
Heaven forfend you should meet an untimely end--
At the point of a bullet
Whose irreverent marksman's
Trigger-finger did pull it.
full-bodied crows
profoundly near
ebonic wingspan
gliding and diving
in dusky parking lot
what caused them
to stir, so flagrantly
as twilight shoppers
pack in their groceries
Around bushes, trees and pathways, race two lively squirrels
Scurrying speedily up and down playing games of tag together
Spreading its shaggy tail one would sit up tall by taking a halt
Prying off caps, happily chomps on healthy delicious acorns
With flashy chirps a lively Scrub-Jay pair takes off from an oak branch
Swoops down taking sharp turns performing an animated vocal dance
Flying from branch to branch spreading gorgeous blue and gray wingspan
Supports propagation by harvesting and hiding seeds and acorns
Migrated dark eyed Juncos enhance the beauty with their ground-hops
Taking leaps, flit low in underbrush to relish tasty leaves and grass
Lunging forward and hopping backward brown towhees tap dance
Pounce on foliage and berries by scratching their feet to feed on
Tosses of nutty, delightful acorns attract large turkey flocks
Roaming around scraping ground for food under leaf litter and lawns
Clucking and pecking they search and stroll the whole backyard
I watch the visitors with grateful heart filled with nature’s mystical calm