three who three who
wiwho wiwho wiwho
whicha whicha whicha
creeca creeca creeca
song bird orchestra serenades me tonight
My love dawns,
sprays spectrum
just for you.
Would you fly
with tinged wings
in my sky?
Would you be
sweet song bird
in my spring?
Shy clouds drift over a sea of blue satin,
Remembering to breath in the used to be soothing
Sunlight gentling the truth, kindling hopes
Who reflect on the new,
Listening to aching raindrops, glistening
And bursting through the promises
On a still, clear afternoon,
While endless notes of light,
Fall like heady bliss, on the moments
When birds test their voices,
Crooning, lyrics like the wind’s breath
Pouring over the heart,
Lighting the thoughts with powerful images,
Blessing away the doubts, the dread,
Feelings unfolding inside the soul who has bled
Grieving for summer, who has gone out of my head,
As autumn sinks in around my life,
Crispy and quiet, like the leaves who dance,
Remembering, reflecting, resenting
the past’s lavender kisses, with all its plummeting wishes.
Psalms 96:1 (KJV) “O sing unto the LORD a new song: sing unto the LORD, all the earth.”
Seas of twittering,
Tweets, gentle as noon,
Melodious uprising from the nest.
Colors like wildfire, glowing hues,
Erasing the morning mist,
Seas of twittering.
Songbirds risking twilight,
Before fireflies reveal the music,
Tweets, gentle as noon.
Listening, songs climb
Into the morning skies,
Melodious uprising from the nest.
On swift wings, blessed by the light,
who pours out the melody,
scriptures come to life – in the song,
joyful noises, crafted by hope,
soothing away the dark, coloring the life
in gentle truth, praises poured out,
all through the music, songs drifting,
on the edge of a heart – rhythmic, beyond the winds,
who remember only the showers,
the storm who haunts with its whisper,
blessings gesture to the souls who recall…
on swift wings, they soar, gliding through the skies,
at peace with the graceful sun, at peace…
they seem to sing, ‘just see what God has done’,
“J U S T S E E… what God has done…
And, He has only just begun! He has only just begun!!!!
Birds
Singing
Soothing souls,
Serenading
Trembling moments erase the darkest gloom,
Stardust shadows echo through the silence,
Glistening truth,
Playing soft,
Warbling
Songs
I heard a rich whistling sing-song echoing from the trees
rising and falling and flashes of bright orange color
the bird was sturdy with a thick neck and long legs
he had a very sharp pointed bill and a black hooded head
and his body was a bright orange, his tail feathers long
he was medium in size, bigger than a hummer lets say
After some research I discovered he was an Oriole,
they migrate to Canada in the summer months
from late Spring to around August when they leave
nesting in forest edges, in stands of trees beside water
or in backyards, like mine, to take advantage of feeders
eggs are laid in a pendulous nest made of plant fiber
I read they love fruit like oranges and grape jelly
and sweet sugar water just like the hummingbirds
they eat beetles, grasshoppers, spiders, and worms
and like millet and seeds from the feeding stations
so, I set up a place to put their orange halves and jelly
and enjoyed the show . . .
Whistling sofly through my window
Listening , the moment started to slow
The ballad of the song bird
For a moment was all I heard
Sat there so long
Listening to his song
Not a note wrong
His music was rising and falling
Other birds soon came a calling
Joining his song
Before long
Music filled the air
I felt not a care
At that moment in time
I came up with this rhyme
A concert just for me
Such a beautiful ballad it be
A black bird Whistling lead , head a bobbing keeping the beat
When joined by the bluebird , I knew I was in for a treat
And I had a front row seat
Lost to the music around me
Best concert I ever did see
And it was all free
a song-bird built a nest
right above the grave of
a world-war fighter pilot
-- Souvenirs of Silence, Soman Gouda
The early bird gets the worm
Or so they always say
As he squirms what does the worm earn
For minding his business in clay?
Watching blue birds fly about singing various tunes
The red birds song sing of home in the month of June.
6/15/2022
Written for BITE SIZE POEM #47 POETRY CONTEST
Sponsor Line Gauthier
When A Beautiful Morning, Song-Bird Sings
When morning songbird warbles lively dirge
Soul wakes unable to resist this urge
And when alone, these feet begin to tap,
Taking me to delight from last night's nap.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
Heart joins rhapsody, colors team up
As if to fill life's joyous golden cup;
A miracle vanquishing worldly pains
Such a blessing very hard to explain.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
Thus I thank songbird for gifting its glee
Arousing sleeping spirit within me
Nature's finer blessing given for sure
Restoring what world's dark has made impure.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
When morning songbird warbles lively dirge
Soul wakes unable to resist this urge
And when alone, these feet begin to tap,
Taking me to delight from last night's nap.
Tis a truth, a great blessing to have found.
Robert J. Lindley, June19th, 1974
Rhyme
( Wherein Heart Can Finally See Hope And Light )
Weight of a Distant Future
David J Walker
So what
He thought
And he was right
To question
The perfect
Sound of the songbird
Singing his name
Coincidence
Is all
It’s the same
as when
The penny scare
Has correctly stated your weight
And guessed at your fate
Without your name
And only you may remember
In a distant future
Appalled
So what
He thought
Though he was
Already white
As a ghost
Most of the time
The host
Singing the song
Gets it all wrong
You know
Although
It remembers
your name
Love, at first sight,
is what happened between me and you.
You had beautiful big eyes brighter than the sun,
in a golden brown crib with a white cloud
is where you stayed daily and nightly.
A bird with a string,
that looked just like me,
spun above your head and sung you to bed.
Every night smiling so brightly, listening to it,
and closed your eyes to go to sleep.
One early morning,
a day I will never forget,
is the day I tried singing like the fake.
And to me, it wasn't great,
but when I looked towards your window,
there you were with your beautiful big eyes with a bright smile,
staring straight at me.
So I made a promise to myself,
that every day,
to see you wake,
I would sing a tune just for you.
Every day of your life,
till you fly out of your nest,
I watch your wings grow,
and no matter what,
I will sing to you.
Sincerely, your songbird.
high in a forest tree
a little songster listens
and answers with phrases
with chatters, twitters, warbles
the little bird hops along a branch
hidden in a green canopy of leaves
singing a song that drifts and dips echoing _
_____________________
April 15, 2020
Poetry/Verse/song bird
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1244-072-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
For the contest, Strand No 730 Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
Eloquent song bird, what ancient lyric do
You sing with timeless unrehearsed voice?
Unscripted from beyond memory, known to
You from your birth; in song do you rejoice?
Oft unseen, by melody your presence known,
Without effort the silent distance enriched.
Your enchanting song in the drifting wind blown,
In each melodic phrase our senses bewitched.
At each dawning, in song you are set apart,
In all your seasons a million notes you sing,
From deepest woodland thicket you pour your heart,
And to our world, unknown to you, magic bring.
B. Stebbings
12/04/2019
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