Urban jungle roosters,
born-again scarecrow,
to untutored city eyes,
tawny pipit stonewall nester,
jet black Inca dove bereft,
of dovetail on a croque monsieur,
idle bone grub crawl,
mother hen to sandy brown,
and velvet bill gazer,
from an nearby creak,
recent rural migrant now,
a tree house side kick,
chickadee a late date sitter,
on this air flock beaky natter,
or tweet between the ice float,
edgy grey day species wield,
their sprightly ruffled feathers,
as an orthopaedic surgeon,
and their spatula when scraping,
rancid bark off windmill elm trees,
gastric bugle trenchermen ahoy,
while ogling a fellow common redpoll,
oh these tummy rumble diners,
will zoom in on every gourmet,
tangled wire mesh feeder station.
round and round they’ll fly,
on zesty mission beetroot,
a cock-eyed scavenger‘s delight,
are they siblings of a noble order?
white tale mountain bluebirds swopping,
habitat for granite boundary habit,
off key off discordant choirboys,
six sided snow bird chorus,
ear splitter for tardy wakening,
they cheep religiously as if,
their only valid creed was,
window squinting prayer meets
Categories:
pipit, art, beautiful, beauty, environment,
Form: Ekphrasis
Two young best of friends, Pipit and Didit, are playing in a pond.
Pipit said, "I can fly like an eagle." Didit was watching him. Then Pipit asked his female friend Didit, "What can you perform to impress me?"
Didit replied, "I cannot fly. I'm scared."
"I can understand," said Pipit.
Then Pipit moved to the other side of the pond.
Didit shouted, "Don't leave me alone, I can't swim!"
Pipit said, "It's only in your mind, but you'll never drown!"
"Why?" asked Didit.
"Because we are fish!"
Categories:
pipit, confidence, friendship,
Form: Prose
Oh little Meadow Pipit
So sweetly do you sing,
Unbridled joy and happiness
Effuse your warbling.
High above the moor you dance
Rapturous in flight,
Oh little Meadow Pipit
How you so delight.
To listen to your joyous song
Just fills my heart with glee.
Oh little Meadow Pipit,
Please sing once more for me.
Categories:
pipit, bird, nature, song,
Form: Rhyme
We hear the prairie whispering
when meadow lark is on the wing
and pipit echoes a refrain.
Sweet solitude is his domain.
The sigh of breeze through blades of wheat;
a distant farm in summer’s heat -
Still life - but for the shifting vane.
Sweet solitude is its domain.
Midst blazing stars of purple hue,
I murmur while caressing you.
The soft wind, moaning, strokes the plain.
Sweet solitude is our domain.
We hear the prairie whispering. . .
Sweet solitude is my domain.
For Skat's Premiere Contest number 5 Poetry Contest
Categories:
pipit, romance,
Form: Kyrielle
Pipit is calling...
Pleasant bird song fills the air
Tired face lives in hope
Categories:
pipit, life, on work and
Form: Haiku