Sandpiper Poems - Poems about Sandpiper

The briny’s ebbed and now far out of sight And all around a vast expanse we see With debris left by the retreating sea. And stretch of golden sand, a real delight. On rocks are barnacles there clinging tight Waiting for next high tide to set them free. A risky life they have, you must agree, Being at the mercy of the...

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They'd wade at standards to be seen by most. The Spoon-billed Sandpiper, who shares wading, to dying, one hundred ten, and counting. Stretched East Asia, Russia through China ... host. They've spoon-shaped bills to help them scoop up moss, insects, shrimp, and worms. They are renowned for their calls, which males fly and sing a rapport, sounds like 'preep' and 'wheer' can...

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I watch fascinated at its teetering stance, bobbing up and down, picking at small insects that infest the lonely loch, that it chooses instead of upland streams or creeks or fast-flowing rivers, or in some lonely lake. Today I sit on a small chair, behind some bushes on the shore of a lonely loch, away from it all. Ah sandpiper, are you emulating me? Are you...

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The briny's ebbed and out of reach and in its wake a fresh clean beach but left behind and snagged on rock are slimy strings of bladder wrack. In rock pools some creatures marooned and bits of bygone life abound, like skeletons of crustacean that once thrived in this vast ocean. A sandpiper struts on mudflat as that is where his food is...

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This world, never ours alone, but shared with other creatures great and small. The Earth turns and new dawn comes, and will long after we're gone. A Sandpiper flitted along the shore and told me so. We must face a truth that we borrowed these days, you and I, from benefactors and trustees, unborn and untested,...

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little piper, little piper oh how fast you skip away as the morning tide crawls in to taste the beach - briny swishes bring your breakfast while you prance to greet the day and they never seem to wet you ...

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I saw a one-legged Sandpiper today on the beach. I saw him land on his single pedestal, it was an artful thing. Entranced by his disability, I stood transfixed with curiosity. I so wanted to help him but we're worlds apart. How can he feed? How can he fend? Suddenly, he flew away up the beach, I followed him. There he stood lightly wafting in the wind, still...

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I watch them on the beach - shorebirds they are called running here and there. Residents of land more than the air, they'd rather poke their beaks into the sand probing for morsels of tasty crustaceans. Pecking, always pecking, scrambling to and fro, they're focused, ever focused on the job at hand. Not especially strong, graceful, colorful, or pretty, they are, however, speedy. They scuttle easily through...

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Sandpiper Pausing...Again What times are these where hearts run hot and cold ceaseless conscience alerts remind us of steel girders fallen prone entombments sealed their distant voice remembered well Compassion's lens peers through this fallen metropolis of micro-flesh this glass transparency engulfed by forsaken smoke knowing today's ethereal descends as heart's residue embracing darkness recalled clock hands stopping media rushing to air-time yet never to be out of date Silence remembers fused tragedies crumbling...

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A solitary sandpiper picks his path Three - four maybe a score Find them on any sandy shore Marvelous kaleidoscope of mobility Double jointed tooth pick legs Old time movies jerk ahead Staccato motion, roaming and roving Pointed beak pecks at sand As if going treasure troving So intent upon the chore Hopping over grounded wave Flap and fly three feet away Running, racing rain or...

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The sandpiper seemed innocent enough, as it trailed the water’s edge. She followed, keeping her distance. It was a beautiful day in April, when the unspeakable happened. A warm sun and gentle breeze comforted her busy mind. Patiently, she followed the bird, feeling the mixture of sand, pebbles, and broken shells beneath her feet. As a flock of seagulls lifted in flight, Her eyes...

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The sandpiper seemed innocent enough, as it trailed the water’s edge. She followed, keeping her distance. It was a beautiful day in April, when the unspeakable happened. A warm sun and gentle breeze comforted her busy mind. Patiently, she followed the bird, feeling the mixture of sand, pebbles, and broken shells beneath her feet. As a flock of seagulls lifted in flight, Her eyes...

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