The Sea Gull
The one-legged seagull king that lived on the last reef
before the ocean began had lived long, longer than gulls normally do
He came from a sturdy breed that for generations had lived
at the edge of land and sea; they knew things other birds didn’t know
On the ferry bound for England the king came onboard, I fed it fine
knowing well the king would be back when the ferry returned
Other younger birds wanting the space on the last reef, attacked the king
who never more returned; to the ferry boat they circled and shrieked
in triumph demanding preferential treatment, I gave them potato peel
and saved the best leftovers for the gulls on the coast of Newcastle
After years of a zero-sum life having no time for anything, I retired and
bought a cabin far inland, but near a lake that had a wooden pier and
a rowing boat, a place where the trout waked undisturbed.
On the top of the chimney he sat, the old king, waiting just for me.
Shadows amid the waves
bird-eye targets,
besties gather for
a fine dining experience;
aqua splits to pierce
of bill.
Fueling up the old pouch,
a winging pelican riding sea breeze
to sustenance;
all hook-billed and needing no bait.
Just a hop, skip-skim
across to side-dish;
let’s have a herring and mullet casserole!
Throat-sack wiggles, jiggles,
down the hatch,
then it’s back to the nest for
cocktails and a snooze.
Gregarious, the lot of us,
quite a personable group;
flashey-fish’in, eight-foot
wingspan, spots another appetizer;
bank left, wings fold in
a dive-bomb spin...dessert!
We’re aerial acrobats of the coasts;
hop a ship and we’ll perform
for you; no charge.
Last days of summer
Autumn's presence felt
The sea retains some heat
Hardy souls take the plunge
While gulls skim and surf
Riding on waves that swell
A curious seal watches
Alien species enjoying
Freedom from the land.
Image
by
Natalia_Kollegrova
Pixabay
If, I were a seagull;
The wind would tickle
And lift my fine feathers.
I would extend my wings,
Bend my knees,
Leap up into the air
Flapping my wings
Taking off and fly,
Feeling the favorable
Brisk briny breeze filled sea.
Glide and vanish into the broad sky.
I'd fly among the shadows of the clouds,
Embrace in natural warmth
Of heavenly sunshine,
Overlooking uninterrupted view
Above and among endless, blissful line;
Along the coastline,
As it calls.
1/30/2021
If I Were A ? Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Judged 2/4/2021
3) if I were a seagull
Poetry Contest:'NA Poem From a February 2021 Judged Contest -'
Sponsored By: Constance La France
I’m soaring through a sunset – violet
as sun drips into water cobalt blue.
How peaceful is this twilight time. I let
my eyes take in the total gorgeous view.
My mates fly with me. Beachcombers we spy!
We squawk and squeal and circle with delight.
Then down to where the humans are we fly.
We need to look around while there’s still light.
Before the sun into the ocean dips,
I hope to find some food upon the ground.
I relish scraps of fruit and yummy chips!
Oh joy! I see my lovely mate has found
leftover crumbs. She shares them all with me.
How glad are we to be birds of the sea.
Jan. 30, 2021
The old sea-gull
The old one-legged sea-gull
sat on my roof near the chimney
if felt the cold, scanning the sky.
Once it had been the captain on the outer reef
and fought many a battle to sit on his crown
Someone took a shot at it, and it lost a leg,
together with oncoming elderliness, it left its kingdom.
Took refuge on my roof and lives of scraps of food.
It is still standing proud, but it can´t be hidden
the decline that overcomes us all.
Like the sea-gull, we have to battle on, be dignified
of the onset awaiting us.
Like rowdy teens all running for a bus
The gulls have seen the merest hint
That someone threw a crust
An unwanted scrap from Pret
The bottom of a wrap or the final soggy
Mouthful from a keytchup spattered bap
Sending fifty feisty squabbling birds
All rising in a screechy flap
Just the first arrive in time to dive
And wing away their beak-caught prize
Towards the winter water skies
Chased by the nearest losers.
The rest resettle in their line to wait again
Another time the unpredictable arrival
Of a sandwich part way munched
In the office lunch timetable.
Viewed through my lens your cold eye
Sees only opportunity, chances for greed,
Unfair and brutal scoring at no cost
To yourself. Instinct polarised to bad,
Answering circumstance with cruelty,
Exploiting misfortune, weaknesses, screaming,
Looking and pressing always for more
As you squabble and spear an unfair share.
But now distant against a bruised cloud
I see you above, glowing, new and lost
In soaring solitude and then always above
You join with other wings, careening, returning
High and silhouetted in the light and round
In turning motions mirroring foam on wave,
Spray on shore, clean, dreaming ambition
With wing and wing, now cheating air.
the roaring crashing
music of the blue ocean . . .
a sea gull gliding
________________________
May 5, 2018
_________________________
Added after judging of contest
Poetry/haiga/contest/sea gull gliding
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1019-924-01
All Right Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Haiku/Haiga
sponsor, Mick Talbot
Fourth Place
The seagull has no insurance.
No mutual funds for later days.
No friends or lovers to burden him.
The seagull is alone and always just now.
The seagull cries to all who'd listen.
But no one does.
The seagull doesn't care.
The seagull looks for threats.
He is always on guard.
As he was then he is now.
One legged swaying
Stiff breeze chills
Soldier crabs scurry
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