On any given day
You'd see her skipping along
In her little brown dress
Humming a new song
She made up lyrics
As the tunes danced about
Not a care in the world
Until evil was let out
After that day, no joy
The bubbles in soul, silenced
She was suddenly stilled
By unthinkable violence
The little girl who walked
Was a gray shell of sorrow
She survived every day
Waiting for it to end in the 'morrow
Day after day, she made it through
Every trial and grief worn
Right in the hallowed space
Were her dress had torn
One day, she will remember
And hold little Sally in her lap
Telling her to sing her songs, freely
Because gifts are not for giving back
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05-28-2026
Good New Day, my Empress.
I love you.
You are the song
"A Bird sent from heaven. to sing.
To Father's children.
To nurture His message.
Sing unto His story,
receiving all His glory.
Song sung in, with faith,
grace, and jubilee
Triumphant Hallelujah.
You are His voice.
Resonate continual singing lovebird
from the Father's heart.
From your soul to your throat
out your heart out your mouth,
Sing on praises continue unto God
---Mine Father's Song Bird
4/10/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
If a songbird sings, and no one hears, do the melodies matter, which it holds so dear?
If a songbird flies and no one sees, why does it bother to open its wings?
If a songbird sleeps but crumbles in its nest, why should the stars pay attention to its rest?
If a songbird lives but fails to grow, it has condemned itself to never be known.
Hush, little songbird,
The world’s an awful place,
And we have decided
You won’t find your own way.
Hush, little songbird,
Stay in our wings,
For we were the ones that made you,
We must be your everything.
Hush, little songbird,
It’s not your time to fly.
You’re not like the others,
The height would make you cry.
Hush, little songbird,
Don’t sever your past,
We have built you an army,
Which you’ll one day outlast.
Hush, little songbird,
And never make a fuss.
You sing with such beauty,
But you can’t be enough.
Hush, little songbird,
And please stay the same.
We don’t want to see, your life succeed,
You’re perfect when you’re tamed.
Hush, little songbird,
Our voice is in your head.
There’s no one more, to give you scorn,
But you won’t leave the dread.
Poor, little songbird,
Now fully grown.
You only loved, who lived above,
So now you’re stuck alone.
A songbird in hiding,
Your life is your own.
They lie in wait, a lie of state
A statement therein lies
The journey long that bears the song
Aloft to culmination
The strike is swift, the rest, the lift
Arresting once safe passage
And so is made, this tempting trade
For food of thought is fleeting
She rests attesting to this moment
No siren song but lilting
And in an instant instantly
A melody is risen
The aire is born for life, forlorn
And carried on the current
Survive the journey for the learning
Live to see the morrow
And where these two should meet unsweet
A moment left to capture
For all must eat lest they succumb
Benumbed to rote or rapture
Watch the cautious songbird, afraid of the night,
Travels never lasting to capture the light.
She shuts her eyes, ‘fore daylight dies, she’s bound to the sun.
And then she hides, a branch so high, to rest ‘till night is done.
Watch the cautious songbird, who treasures the day,
Wishing sunlit valleys could take her away.
She tries to float, with heaven’s notes, which carry all her weight,
But she won’t know, the stars that glow, so cautious is her fate.
Watch the cautious songbird, who sang in her range,
Pretty wings were wasted since she never could change.
At times she woke, at night’s approach, but never saw the moon.
Her days have passed, her terror lasts in the feathers of ruin.
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 14 Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Contest Judged: 9/6/2025 12:49:00 PM
( 1st Place )
Written: September 04, 2025
They said the songbird
her wings twisted and torn
should quiet herself...
that the sky held no place
for the fragile or the worn.
Yet she kept a sky tucked inside her - a
place untouched by any hand.
At daylight she let her voice rise
and though her body stayed earthbound,
her song lifted past the edge of flight.
The wind slowed to listen,
branches bent nearer
and the horizon seemed to pause,
stirred by her willfulness .
Each note unlaced an old wound,
each chorus pushed against the walls
of a world that once turned her away.
Her feathers never mended,
yet her dream grew wide enough
to shelter every broken one who followed.
From her we understood:
reaching the sky
was never about wings at all.
s
e
i
l
she f on r>h>y>t>h>m of her song
in ~r~i~p~p~l~i~n~g~ air at hued d^a^w^n
nightingale’s *s*u*n*b*u*r*s*t* r..a..p..t..u..r..e
“The sound of birds stops the noise in my mind.”
— quote by Carly Simon
----------------------------------------------------
I see pair of red-whiskered bulbuls
with wrong-end rouge, spikes, eloquent note
gurgling - spinning love, singing the loop,
billing, bowing, chattering. I swoon
Lirena was a songbird born of yore
Who dearly loved her husband everyday;
She sings her songs of contentment no more.
An adversary’s troops ransacked the shore,
A ruthless marauding they did display;
Lirena was a songbird born of yore.
Her loving husband whom she did adore
Abducted mercilessly from the fray;
She sings her songs of victory no more.
She trailed the captor’s ship on raft with oar,
Enduring stormy gales and restless waves;
Lirena was a songbird born of yore.
Making landfall, sprinting upshore,
In tearful attempt to plead and persuade,
She sung her people’s secret song of yore.
But the Adversary had no remorse,
Her beloved was already in decay.
Lirena is a songbird of long forgotten lore;
She sings her songs of compunction forevermore.
One sunny morning sweet small Sue sees sitting up,
in a sapling a songbird is seated on silky flower cup.
It’s a scarlet vested slim and shy swirling Robin,
she sighs sad, “so long your show I haven’t seen”.
“Skipping winter snow I soar, my swift wings I spin”,
small Robin sings, “for you scenic spring sends me in”.
At sunrise the Robin sprints on the spray of sun ray,
Sue strides on surge of joy, so it shines her smiling day.
I see you through the purple flowers.
Heart churning in your chest.
Sitting cross legged, pumped with powers.
Crowning chastity through your crest.
Wildflowers hear your song, for it is their song too.
The bumblebee lies atop your head, buzzing with the tune.
Cows grazing in the field below begin to sway and moo.
Red and orange songbirds stretch the notes over the moon.
Time slows its senseless clock then stops the endless ticking.
It slowly finds the rhythm and is syncing.
Heart beating with the moon and the cows and flower pickings.
The moment when the universe is winking.
I will look for you tomorrow and even yesterday.
But I can only find you now, ME, TODAY.
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.
It is early morning, and it is quiet, too quiet.
The rambunctious bird won't even utter a chirp.
Once resoundingly loud, her voice like a siren,
Now you're lucky to find her softly humming at all.
Once seeking passion, the bird now searches for silence,
In hopes, the trees and leaves will drown out her absence of sound.
A false hummingbird, she masquerades in muted tones,
Her once vibrant voice reduced to vibrations.
Perhaps she flew too close to the sun, as this songbird lost her song,
Her nostalgic melodies traded for the flap of her wing,
as she was already gone.
My volatile mind wandered in the terrain of trance,
drifted in the draft of reverie on its latticed wings,
a lonely bird floated in the sunburst recess of sky,
made the fascinating fresco of formless fantasy.
Captive in the suffocating cage of sordid craving,
I broke the bars in dormant dream to be free,
flew beguiled in zephyr when it began to blow,
fluttered in the thicket of yonder pleasant plateau.
From the dust of the demolished dreams I arose,
the dismal sigh of the desolate heart I heard,
the music of love resonated in ardent symphony,
I glided in its cadence, soared in the bowl of blue.
I heard the whispering spring wind singing for me,
as I serenaded with the silver-lined cloud convoy.
After the storm the spectrum of horizon embraced me,
while I ascended suffused with the colors of twilight.
As the departing rain drops sparkled in my eyes,
through the washed pristine prism I could see
the rainbow hues spread on my dancing wings,
while I returned to the nest as a lonely songbird.
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