Sparrows Poems

sparrows are like us

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

Of Sparrows and Trees

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

Hungry Sparrows

I thought I was retired until given a bag of wild bird feed
using my red bird bath I placed in a blue bowl full of the seed
Not long and a lone sparrow flew into the bowl
soon joined by a flock of them I sat and watch the show
They would flutter about and land pecking their

The Sparrows

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

sparrows singing new day song praise to GOD-

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©

Of Sparrows

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

A World with Sparrows

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

In Stance the Autumn Sparrows In Flight--

so late fall damp rains
brightly flies sparrows so calls
getting wet in flight



10/12/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©

Sparrows

My head is growing light bulbs
the illuminance is very low
I ape the cries of crows
in their gilded cages
I am a coward to myself
vicariously living only half my life
climbing preverbal fences and hedges
I've never known my age

Even the Sparrows

Even the sparrow has a place to lay it's head,
So why should I lay worries on my breath?

All the world's colors laid with such ingeniousness 
so why should I live in gray grievousness?

Oh God! you even crafted nature's music in brilliance!
 Then how can I be overcome by my monotonous silence?
( It was my silence,

Homeless Sparrows

An old tree fell this evening,
Its ancient heart surrendered to the saw's cruel embrace,
The gnarled branches yielding to human ambition.
Nobody listened to the crying sparrows,
Their voices, delicate as fragile dreams,
Were drowned out by the roar of machinery.

They were born there,
Amidst the leaves and the dappled sunlight,
Their tiny nests cradled in the arms of the tree.
And

Simple Blessings

You bounce around in little hops all over the yard,
Not bothered at all that you can’t walk.
You chirp and tweet and twitter at me, 
Angrily demanding your daily seeds.
Like a fallen brown leaf you descend 
Gracefully to the ground.
Then –
In a flash –
You soar away,
Owning the sky, the trees, the power lines. 
Black, beady, keen

Garden Sparrows

 

Since a child, I loved the sparrows in mother's garden,
those gregarious brown birds . . . singing together; 
in chirps, warbles and thrills morn', day, evening ! 
I would laugh at their dust and water baths, and how,
they gather in clumps on branches and flock to eat seeds-
I asked father, can we make nesting

Resurrection Sunday In-Between

I howl with wolves I’ll be back somehow
My heart bruised like the sky that hour before sunrise
When sparrows find yoke in the universe
But blossom as copper in the Apple trees
Filling the cold morning with jingling keys

The pond steams like coffee

This early blurry April moon in the fingers of Oaks
Is mine
Here in my backyard in my

Two Sparrows

When creatures fight, it’s often quite
An unexpected thing.
In fact, the sight just might invite
Observers to the ring.

Today, by chance, I got a glance
Of sparrows on the ground.
Their angry dance was not romance
But fury quite profound.

They’d alternate to aggravate
Each other as they fought,
To dominate or devastate,
The outcome that they sought.

With every peck on chest or neck
They

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