Short Magpies Poems

In 
preying
on others-
magpies feed on 
grief...

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In 
preying
on others-
magpies feed on 
grief...

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Listen to poem:

warble to the sky
a joyous chorus flock shared
joie de vivre...

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Listen to poem:

the magpies I thought
loved me true for what I am
come for bugs disturbed...

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underneath blue skies….
listening to soft magpies
 sketching young sawflies...

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magpies
bickering raiders
sorrowful untold secrets
line your nests of
thieves...

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TWO  MAGPIES  EAT~UP  .

AUTOPSY  NOW  COMPLETED  .

LIFE  IS  BLACK AND WHITE  .
          ---...

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Clear sunlight cool breeze

                   No fog, mist or cold wind

                   Cuckoos and magpies sing...

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Clear sunlight cool breeze

                   No fog, mist or cold wind

                   Cuckoos and magpies sing...

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Through busy April clouds
The shrieks of magpies sound
A rainbow black and white

They hide their finds in highest trees
Making their  finest bridal nest...

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When magpies' crackle joins the song
Another answers from below--
That neighing horse completes the verse
Until loud winds hush gossip's row.


Brian Strand Contest
15 Dec 16...

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I have inherited pleasure:
the rhythm of pegs, the smell
of buttery sun on sheets,
a whispering murmur of trees
standing around, and the company
of magpies inspecting
with one eye looking for worms....

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A new sun is dawning 
There's a glistening in the sky
Mother hens are chirping
As Magpies learn to fly

Children are on bicycles 
New love is in the air
Ice cream stalls and fresh fruit
Summer is everywhere....

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Two magpies were devouring the remains of Elsie's cat
which was as flat as uncle Charlie's welcome mat.
It wasn't always so; once, he was a jolly ginger rotund fellow.
Now, alas, poor Bobby is a giant squished marshmallow....

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The morning lasted all day
Rain dripped off the backs 
Of jet-black ravens
Perched in the branches
Of tired ancient larch.
They looked angrily,
More annoyed,
At magpies foraging
Through lonely sentinel bins.
Who didn’t care about rain,
Only about thieving ravens....

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A perfectly predictable purplish tabby cat misbehaves
Dancing across magnificent magpies excavated graves
Squirming yellow shining housefly larvae she enslaves
Swimming  through thick sticky b-positive tidal waves
A polka dotted butterfly with stiletto and cream shaves...

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One step at a time
Count them or make a rhyme  
Then fix your gaze to the front
And walk to it taking the brunt

Of the exercise in the walk
Breath in and hear magpies squawk
The Australian sun is something to behold
Being in nature never gets at all old.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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blackbirds sqwark.
    hungry magpies try their luck
  where pigeons coo;
children's voices echo long
   on imagination's highway;
leather sounds on willow,
    outfielders idly doze
spectators quietly clap ;
 and  sleepy snores
   sounds the days away.


Inspired by Laura's contest...

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"Will you write for me?" she asked.
"Will you be there when
the silver-gloved hand of night
closes the sky?"
The chatter of magpies
never ceases as their wings
brush against the door.
Run, run to the closet of your heart,
and put on your treasure-jewels.
It's never too late to dress up....

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"Will you write for me?" she asked.
"Will you be there when
the silver-gloved hand of night
closes the sky?"
The chatter of magpies
never ceases as their wings
brush against the door.
Run, run to the closet of your heart,
and put on your treasure-jewels.
It's never too late to dress up....

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Azure blue under an endless Australian sky
Magpies chortling flying by
Fresh cool breeze on an autumn day
Easter weekend 2018 in a lazy way

The news is not so bad
Seems this year there is no sad
A Christian holiday with meaning
Faith in god with some hope for healing.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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Traffic is slow.
In the drizzle
the holiday crowd complain and grizzle.

Magpies and currawongs are carolling.

The morning is silvery now.
A heavy sky bends down,
dropping diamonds 
wetly on the ground.

Mounds and hills will grow emerald grasses.
Rain sings the treasure of life as it passes.
...

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blackbirds sqwark and cluck
hungry magpies try their luck-
fledglings hide,dumbstruck

leather sounds on bat
spectators,politely clap-
outfielders,idly chat

children,outdoors stay
on imagination's freeway-
hours in dreamland,play

pigeons coo like doves
the mistlethrush sings above-
hello,my lady-love...

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Dance
Between the granite stones
Of the dead
Long ago last breaths do part
Memories seeping in dirt
Black birds and magpies
Lace and knots
Lingering thoughts
Swaying too and fro
Insane

Dancing 
On top of the dead
Lover is all but gone
Butterflies shown
That life flies on
As shadows rest
Upon ones breast...

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Morning solitude is best
The once dark margin of the sea
is all at once, a sparkling pleasure
 
To hear the  sprightly magpies
as they wander over dewy grass 
warbling a wealth of sound 
the like of heaven 
 
Air so fresh it equals joy
and the jewel in the crown;
on the vacant lot beneath the sign -
a lily has bloomed....

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