Nestlings Poems | Examples

May

There are towel-drying winds.
parks grow soggy with small dogs.

May is an old man riding a bike backwards.
It is oil for the broken engine in the barn.
Wetness folds this way and that
the sky unzips a larkish sunshine.

We hear nestlings in their reservoirs of dew.
New life bubbles in puddles,
the green and tufted arrive out of nowhere,
boys' fish for skittish girls,
           beryl buds swell, unclasp and curl.

spring sings

    spring sparkling, birds sing, nestlings born : sweet tweets in cadence touching heart.

Happy Halloween?

A downy feather slowly drifted...down 
and gently settled upon the ground.
Full on, an innocent bird was struck 
by an Amazon delivery truck... 

whose driver, high on crystal meth, was wired,
yet, on this thirty-hour shift, was tired.
His mission was to deliver a poem,
speeding past the carnage below him...

which included a useful piece of fluff.
A mother bird grabbed a bit of that stuff 
and used it for her little homemade nest.
With two young chicks, she thought it was the best...

thing to line their bed, just the right size,
not knowing it contained my ears and eyes.
I, the avian victim of that crash,
was the bird the delivery van did smash...

and so, unnoticed, I watched the chicks 
as their mom went out to get some sticks
but those chicks would soon be out of luck.
Their mom was killed by a delivery truck...

driven by a drug fiend, who drove so swift,
with blood red eyes, on his thirty-hour shift.
So those poor nestlings grew up alone
'til they ventured to the great unknown...

where they met a fate, tragic and unfair -
an Amazon delivery truck was there
to both smash those birds and pulverize.
So here's your Halloween poem - surprise!

On the Clock

 
On the Clock



Glassy pearl adorn bare , emerald green

Ash cloud the earth 

Crystalized structures  fall

Awakening gray and dull

Elastic boughs regain foliage 

The fresh chirp of nestlings 
Slowly decline 

As mother works on the clock



Marckincia Jean
Free verse 
08/05/2024



























Foliage

Moss

HER FEET IS SMOTHERED BY MOSS,
HER ARMS SPROUTING MUSHROOMS,
HER LEAFY FINGERS,
HER IMPOTENT EYES,
HER HAIR HOUSES NESTLINGS,
FROZEN BRAIN WITH REBUFFED THOUGHTS,
FAINT HEARTED,
HER LIPS READ EULOGY OF HER PAST LIFE,
HER NOSTRILS BREATHE DRY ICE,
HER CHEST HOLDS DRIED UP ESSENCE OF LIFE,
SHE STANDS PLANTED IN AN UNIFORMED GARDEN,
WITH THE GARDENER ONLY FOCUSING TO REST UNDER HER SHADE,
BOTHERLESS OF HER WITHERING,

I MEAN THE TREE.


V.POONAM

COFFEE STAINED THOUGHTS

Feeding the nestlings she came up an inch-worm too short.

Soggy ink-stained signs muttered in the rain.

The old cat caught the scent of a mouse.

A cat has nine lives, a frog croaks every night, but a rumor lives forever.

Freshly crushed coffee beans mellowed in the mist of sunrise.

The silence was shattered by the roar of a mosquito.

His voice was lost in the echoes of his anger.

The snake moved slowly over the hot stone massage.

The naked truth need not be covered up.

Ceremony of birds

There is a sombre silence, 
as mist veils morning air.
A plethora of feathers
float among dew drops.
A ceremony of birds,
heads slumping,
soundless and homeless,
perch upon rooftops,
observing fallen nests,
cracked eggs and 
lifeless nestlings.
Arrival of their fate
is like paper in a storm.
But birds don't ask why,
they just spread their wings and fly.

When Summer Has Gone

"Dead leaves lay still until the wind takes them,
here and there:  even the last flower is withered:
yet there is a beauty in decay"

Quote by _Constance La France 


A hush has settled over the garden
Birds have flown to their warm-weather affair
Faded, stray blossoms will beg no pardons
For the looks of their stringy, tangled hair
Or crisp leaves that blow in November's air

I miss the winged ones, their hustle-bustle
Trees without leaves can no longer rustle
 No blossoms' sweet honey scent by window
 gone are places for nestlings to tussle
Nature reminding to enjoy the flow.


And, yet, as I pause moments to reflect
As winter's cold breath chases leaves astray
Often there's beauty in things we reject:
Nourishment for new buds in leaf decay
Nature's promise of gold and green display

Nature remembers what we might forget:
Life but a cycle, time and life duet
From decayed, discarded many things spring
Repurposed clouds as a crimson sunset
A gentle breeze that next summer will bring

June 6, 2023
for Word Challenge - D Quotes poetry contest
howmanysyllables = 10

Nestlings

Nestlings

I write best
Close to the vest
I attest
It’s what I know 
Best

In my nest
It’s what I 
Behest 
I write best
Close to the vest

Be my guest 
I’ll unload 
My chest
Be just like
An inner inquest 

I write best
Close to the vest
Just sit tight
I’ll feed ya
The rest

Bill MacEachern
03/24/23

Robin

savor of fresh rain
bird house fastened to tree trunk~
beak full of earthworms

nestlings bulging cheeks
leaves its nest gravity pulls~
prompt upward movement

2/12/2023

Spring Flower, Bird Or Butterfly Haiku X 2 Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin

howmanysyllables

Winter Is Not Forever

There's the soft breath of spring upon the air,
And my airborne friends are filling the skies.
Winter's hard for the ruffling of feathers,
not to mention snowflakes blurring our eyes

I am a white-winged dove and a teacher:
nestlings of summer are filling my class.
I teach them to find seeds in the rich earth
or hidden deeply within desert grass.

We'll be happy when warm breezes beckon,
we'll dance and somersault on lilting air.
Soon the sun will warm our freezing feathers 
and spring will sing in answer to our prayer.

If all seasons the same, how to compare
Nature has seasons and we must abide.
Loveliness hides in both blossoms and snow
Still, we rejoice when winter steps aside!

February 8, 2023
for Winter is Not Forever contest
by BJ Legros Kelley
A First Place!

The Phoenix

It's okay if you are trying to fly and still haven't learnt.
It's okay if you slipped down in all your attempts.
It's okay if rest of Nestlings glide around in pride.

Don't look at the ones who are flying.
Forget the flutter of their wings and their pride.
Look up in the beautiful sky.
Know that soon you too will glide.
Keep up your courage to try.
Love, one day you'll soar highest in the sky.
The phoenix then knows no reasons to shy.
Quite soon you too will look down and smile.

Love, you will always be my pride.

Return of the Swifts

A chirp-chirp-chirping I find delightful
Echoing through my open hearth,
Chimney swifts have returned to nest
In the open flue, their usual berth.

Warmth from the pilot light drifts aloft
Keeping the nestlings nice and warm,
Nurturing parents flying back and forth
Capturing insects from spring’s swarm.

Feeding their voraciously hungry young
Who soon will fly skyward and take flight,
Then I hear no more chirp-chirp-chirping
As they soar through the square of light. 

written April 10, 2022
submitted to Brian Strand's Premier Contest

Pickings

When the snout of lush abundance is full and flowing,
when all prey and creature-kind spill upon the verdant swards,
then it is that I worry night and day,
for the stoat, fox and hawk are at work,
they scythe in the whelm and nimiety, they hack and harrow.

The kits and chuckling’s are many, the light too bright;
for then the foragers forgoing fright, are palpable and open.
The long-eared nibblers, hairs on scattered rodents laid bare,
they scutter, skitter and twitch much in the open
greatly prone to be pounced upon;
their paltry pelts all unhidden, and being many,
and not running, they are huddled; yet not strong.

If this slew not ease, if the grabbers not falter,
if the singled-out dither, the glut not wither,
then the green snake will climb to where nestlings hutch -
they all so easily plucked and quickly snatched.
I worry for the wee brown birds; mottled shells still unhatched.

I fear a winnowing, withal a harsh hazard of gorge and sate.
I fret for the freshly delivered, the teeming,
the newly produced, all the bounding bounty
for those too easily found and so, arrived too late.

Early April

spring hands over her bleach gowns to summer
environment grows pale green ---
cosmos under rebirth

earth tries color revolutions and fails
jaundice yellow leaf lips crack ---
no chill thrill in grass blades

Nestlings of sparrows feel hot in nestles  
cuckoos from crow nests escape ---
cocoon covers hang free


05 April 2022

• Short Nestlings Poems
• Famous Nestlings Poems
• Best Nestlings Poems
• Read Nestlings Poems
• Long Nestlings Poems
• Nestlings Quotes