stirring
inside a rhombus,
springtime.
inside a triangle,
a blind
dog.
the rhombus and the triangle
keep
bumping
into each other
inside my twelve
by fifteen
rectangle.
there, on the clothesline,
sitting side by side,
chatting away,
are my wife's
sleeveless blouse,
my Bermuda shorts,
and my daughter's
ripped jeans.
by noon,
the triangle
slips inside
the blouse.
the rhombus
into the pocket
of my Bermudas.
and through the
rips and tears
of the jeans,
spring descends
into my twelve
by fifteen.
my wife's blouse,
my Bermuda shorts,
stare on it
astonished.
five sparrows
are playing
on the open terrace
of the morning.
When sparrows chirp, they sing for peace.
They fly and paint a masterpiece.
What lovely sounds, what a lovely scene!
No words can say what these could mean.
The rhymes they sing they touch the heart.
The sounds they make perform an art.
Who can’t enjoy? Who can’t ignore?
These tiny birds with a lofty soar.
They like our homes but love the sky
With wings and songs so loud and high.
I can’t see life with no such birds.
They give us joy beyond all words.
17/9/2026
Somewhere at the early dawn
Sparrows chirping on the lawn
And I’m lying in my bed
Halfway through the dream I had
Curtains flutter in the breeze
So are leaves of the elm trees
Scattered clouds of dirty white
Run too fast to stop the sight
Come tomorrow or today
Take me back, and by the way
Tell me what the reason for
You’re not coming anymore..
We cannot bury cosmic birds
they land not where we are …
their feathers of colours unknown
we see them flitting by, their speed
of light outlined in gold upon pylons
greengrocers watch in awe
open parks will not entice them nor
sunflower seeds magnetise anisodactyls
waiting on cliffs so high (...)
we wander not there ~
in woods near farms of warriors
where they now plant apple trees —-
since knowing consciousness is One
we label their flight in Light Language
mystic like streams flowing peaceful ~
There lie our buried heroes at rest.
We hymn songs of freedom as they flap
our emblems long past buried —-
they descended from realms of seraphim
cores spin vortices from which we drink ~
__________________________
Placed : 7th : Premier Contest
Sponsor : Brian Strand
May ‘26
Sparrows bob and weave.
They flit across the blue sky,
"Stay away from her!"
Remember when each breath was shared
with a kiss
When we were two sparrows searching the winds
for a place to land
as we abandoned the world of wishes and dreams
and lost ourselves in warm wings of comfort
Where eyes slowly closed
from the depth of our ardor
and beauty was your face, held between my hands
when I found the meaning of eternity
held as a jewel so bright and precious
offered as a lavished gift from a heart of love
When we crossed the bridge of desire
to find ourselves in a breathtaking realm of wonder
that lives in the memories we share
on an evening such as this
Where we hold our wrinkled hands
to watch the setting sun
While softly speaking of the days we shared
when we were two sparrows
searching the winds for a lasting love
aphrodite songs
nesting in our feathered grass
feeding young in eaves
____________________
A hint of sparrows amid browning leaves
Faint shadows the conductor’s baton
A-dance beneath the now visible nests
A cold urgency whistles through the trees
Beauty will adapt in fashioned frolic
Dab colors in the corners of our minds
Memories more brilliant than their moment
Seen through time’s more melancholy eyes
Hands will touch life’s softly falling petals
Holding to the dreams they still possess
Listening as gentle breezes whisper
A hint of sparrows amid browning leaves
waking from a predawn dream of whistling arrows
The sparrows are like us
fell from the dry, hot sky, first the male
sparrows, be because he was older than her
and had developed a habit of hunting near
the large chimneys at the chemical factory
and it was up to the young widow
she had been a fledgling the year before
to feed and bring up five hungry chicks
and if the weather was not cooling
she to would fold her wings and fall on
the bonnet of a passing car, snakes
and ugly beings would move in for the kill
The famous actor Omar Sharif has passed
he will be remembered, but no the demise
of a family of sparrows are forgotten not
be missed in the lottery of life
It cocks an eye at me.
I recall, as a boy, I stood
by a window looking at a sparrow
just like this one.
Every feather could be the same,
even the mien and stance
– the same.
I had never thought of myself
as a tree, yet all my life
I’ve been branching away from first roots.
I'm still changing into something else,
but not this little bird,
it has perched itself on a branch
of my life,
and is caught within a timeless lens
forever.
The threat of rain’s kept folks away,
But out here by the river,
The sparrows flock when I sit down,
To see what I’ll deliver.
I never feed them, but I guess
That other humans do
And so they hop around my bench
In case some crumbs I’ll strew.
When minutes pass, they flit away
To find another source
As I gaze out at choppy waves
While feeling no remorse.
so beauty new day
sparrows singing early song
before the new dawn
~
soft parted clouds perch
up in lower heavens grasp
sparrows sings to God
~
good new day precious
Lord we worship you this new
day midst chirps of praise
7/20/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
I had been feeling
In my childhood
Though I enjoyed their chirp
Of these little birds
How much they disturbed
During my time of studies…
They made their nests
As the best of builders
With architectural perfection
And pristine beauty
Within each window
Of my house those days
Dark brown-black bib male
Light brown, no black bib, female
Chirping and chattering
Like lovers
Romantic
Is it not?
They spread plant seeds.
The scientists say
They make
Climates around us flourish.
Weather professionals say
They are eco-friendly.
Of late -
I found them decreasing in number.
They said:
It's owing radiations.
I felt sad.
Though I understood everything
Lately -
I found one struggling to fly.
Amidst a gigantic dust storm
Wings broken
Struggle for existence
It could not feel fittest
I wanted the world,
that 'want' kept it from me.
Now I have sparrows
in a clear mirror of sky.
I did not want the sparrows,
yet they come to me now
and their little world
and my world as it is,
is perfectly enough.0
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.