Passerine Poems | Examples

Blue Moons

Blistering and scorching sands
  Land of the hushed and crushed hands
Up the creepy furs clasping 'round
  Ebbing scraped sand of ants' mound

Mortars of the deep and steamy skies
  O'er peals and dreamy flies
Off the reef passerine of stormy glides entreat
  New leaf flit, strength above my feet...

Sunsets tweak, marvels at its peak

Elements

Am I god's breath

Dawn's first breath caresses dew-wet glade,
yellow catkins quiver in spring's tender breeze,
eastern sunrise fuels passerine serenade.
Sulphur-yellow butterflies, black and golden bees
time for birth, new life, our earthly sphere decrees

of Erebus and Nyx

Impish flames dance in noontime light
morph to ghastly pirouetting demons leaping
everywhere, undisciplined they grave alight
red-hot searing daggers all-consuming.
Summer's purifying salamander breathing.

or earthly shibboleth?

Jewel blue; no longer skipping over rocks
the river, now near the end, is older, wiser,
gently drifting west towards the busy docks. 
Autumn leaves of gold, like gentle boats, stir,
floating towards sunset's end of chapter.

Caught between the twixt;

The winter forest seems to our eyes dead.
Midnights new moon; the mother of the sky
mystic dewgleam-silver lights the seedbed
of decomposing earth, where fresh shoots testify
new life once more this land will occupy.

I'm Aether, or maybe six sixty-six.

Passing Passerine

a lark song tickles
 notes of robins and wrens pique~
          the starling teasing




2/23/2021

For Spring Birds Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Constance La France

Spring Canvas

Fragments of first spring sun illuminate
A blithe wave of fluttering pinnate leaves.
Passerine dulcet birds cradled they wait
Ethereal  rain under narrow eaves.
Honeysuckle comes alive drawing straight.
Daisies bright, butterflies by the wheat sheaves.

Around garden's heart breathing once anew
A spider's web in tears form morning dew.

2/2082021


Spring Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh

Hooded Pitohui

Black and orange passerine with red eyes
                               In the woods of
                                 New Guinea
                                   They live
                                      Belle
                                      They
                                    Whistles
                                   Even have
                                Toxic feathers
        Get the poison from the food that they eat.


Date of Submission: 19/02/2021

Wren

The pixie of the thicket, the Wren, that wee russet bird, bodly flittered forth with a staccato rhthym of wing beats.  It flittered forth from dense garden thicket and proceeded to proclaim ire at my intrusion.  With tail lifted high and head lowered, this sorrel scolding sprite reminded me of why I admire it so.
The bold feathered vagabond emerges from the safety of tangled flora recesses and chatters away at giants, giving them the what for, then darts away to sing melodic verses of pure joy.  What lessons could one learn from this miniature passerine? For the Wren dwells in humble low settings, not worthy of mighty birds of prey.  Yet, its heart is surely to be admired.  Its indomitable spirit brings a smile to my face and lifts my own spirit to remind me that even seemingly insignificant creatures have a voice.  
Oh mighty wee one, how I delight in you!

Blue Jay Upstaged

passerine passing

winged colours azure -

swelled blue tit jaywalks

Ravenous

RAVENous

Wickedly,
dressed in black satin,
corseted with passerine-ego —
she dares
the dawn to interrupt her feast,
afterall, SHE is the Queen!
beheading of the smallest of things,
the nibble of opportunity.

Vast is she, the moonlit sentinel,
fearsome in flight as her ebony cape
flaps open like the grim reaper — ripe,
as she lurks over the lintel.

He who tenders
money, braving twelve last straw dings
of the towering clock,
caterwauling about a nagging wife,
a no-good son.

No mercy
for the ungrateful,
she abandons berries and grains
for a heartier steal -
an alcoholic’s swansong.

7/7/2019

A Mynah Bird Confesses

A MYNAH BIRD CONFESSES

“Bonjour”
  “Hello”
      “Aloha”
I speak in many tongues,
this intelligent passerine.

“Shh, don’t let on
    but I’ve seen the neighborhood burglar.
         He’s confessed to me.”

He says, “I’ll tear at your wings.”
   and I repeat, “I’ll tear at your wings.”
I think he takes me seriously as he makes a run for it.

Poor chap. His bag of goods flew. I caught them midair
as I echoed the siren. 

“Shoo little birdie. I have the jewelry. Don’t tell anyone.”

The boys in blue appear amused as I land on a shoulder. They took me in for evidence. Funny to see a grown man cry inside a cage, as I look on -
a freebird.

7/7/2019

My Little Carpenter's Serenade

In the tree by my house, 
Lived, a black rumped flameback, with its spouse.
Their oscine songs and undulating flight were my daily delight.

Oh! Today it was flicking the rear-view mirror of my car,
May be, it found another song bird inside.
Jabbing and drilling to play or may be, to fight.
Or maybe, those unique rolls and the cadence were to impress the new bride.
Whatever! Its drumming was like a song of a passerine.

Just then the carcass of its partner lay in front of my sight.
Gut-wrenching was the plight of this speechless red hooded flight.
How do I tell it, that its solitude would never subside?
 Yet, its spouse is in, there inside and that’s a great respite.

17th February 2019

I Am a Free Bird

Jane Eyre: "I am no bird, and no net ensnares me.
I am a free human being with an independent will." 

I Am A Free Bird 

I am a free bird that knows the ceiling of heaven like the back of my hand 
he made me like this because he loves me, +  he left my name on the sand 

I live by my conscience and by the yearn of my soul, like a passerine tot 
he is the rush of wind that tips my wings, within my poetry he is the plot

                                         of my everyday story....

****

blue yellow plumage
passerine family birds
without brassieres

Passerine Sentry

perched on purple coneflower, red-winged blackbird darkens nest

5/31/2018

*darkens - makes less clear

On the Sparrow's Beak

A passerine bird,
One of the smallest of sizes,
With a beak almost minute.
On its beak you can count many;
the tiniest to biggest,
the slimmest to the fattest,
the lightest to the heaviest,
the ugliest to the finest,
the sourest to the sweetest,
the slowest to the swiftest.
All on this paltry beak,
it houses them all.
And what do you liken this beak to?
A lad's might,it is.

A Peaceful I Love You

An early outing for my friend and I
We walked the winding path down to the springs
The uncut winter hay is now waist high 
And in the morning breeze it softly sings

Red Indian paintbrushes are in bloom
As are the downy phlox and dogwood trees
How sweet the smell of birth in nature's womb
Attracting butterflies and honey bees

The passerine song birds are in full throat
While woodpeckers and sap suckers keep time
Mid air, white cotton hayseeds gently float
So gracefully they dance their pantomime

And in that moment, in the tarnished hay
The gurgling springs still hidden from my view
With nature's springtime beauty on display
I heard her say a peaceful. "I love you"


   by Daniel Turner

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