Swifts Poems - Poems about Swifts

She's strutting down the neon streets, With a smile that the world can't beat. Glitter rains from every note, Catching fire in her velvet coat. Crowds roar wild, the beat won't slow, She's the spark that sets the show. Dizzy lights and hearts that sway, In her name, the night's in play. Gold confetti, fame untamed, A legacy with joy proclaimed. Her tunes, they crash,...

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You are sunshine and a storm all at once We are moved by your expertise, the loving Art isn't in museums alone when you roam free A masterpiece itself finessed on inspiring Took days to hear your gentle sing Any chance you'd lift my chin like you knew my worries I miss you still. I couldn't break free from these kilometers...

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A chirp-chirp-chirping I find delightful Echoing through my open hearth, Chimney swifts have returned to nest In the open flue, their usual berth. Warmth from the pilot light drifts aloft Keeping the nestlings nice and warm, Nurturing parents flying back and forth Capturing insects from spring’s swarm. Feeding their voraciously hungry young Who soon will fly skyward and take flight, Then I hear no more...

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December is approaching with gelid gusts, soon the candid snow will spread its white blanket and dominate the lifeless and desolate land; nevertheless, those pallid swifts with wide wings search for warmer places livelier and more pleasant. Gianni and Lucy follow their flight and look sad, no birds flying around while they build with fast hands a fat snowman with a tomato...

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I saw the swifts again today, High on the wing and weaving the crags to the clouds. I watched them last from my Fall lawn, Flickering between fantasy and truth, And whistling their secrets to the wind. They’d vanished brusquely with the cold, Disappearing from the dusk goodbyes as summer left our skies, Unlike the swallows, bustling importantly on line...

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Watch them on this Summer’s night – They hunt and sleep upon the wing, Scything through the fading light With high-pitched screams – they never sing. High in the humid air they sail Like scimitars, their swept-back wings A sooty brown with short forked tail; They prey on flies and other things. A Spitfire squadron’s deadly flight, Now swooping low across the lane, Airborne spiders...

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BE TOLD *********** azure blue sky, sun shines free, swallows dip and glide, agree. swifts on their way, what for them? fickle weather a problem! nature must regain control. climate change blows hot and cold! wear warm clothes if on a stroll. natures still fickle, be told! Eight Lines Poetry Contest sponsored by Joseph May 05/26/18...

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The sky `s their scene Banquet theirs in blue Swerving arcs of black serene, Black shrapnel of an angel`s song. A dance of life itself Relentless unremitting Screaming songs of joy. All creatures great and small. Small nothings lshowing us the awe....

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Four Swifts Live up to their name As they dart and sail On the late summer breeze There's a delight In knowing I'm the only one Who watches them Up here, on my balcony Here they come again My binoculars cannot catch them They are better enjoyed In full panoramic view...

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Buoys bounce up and down, crashing waves make a sound Seagulls fly away from here, with your spirit staying near Unmarked islands hold our secrets, unknown memories lay beneath us Tan marks and forgotten thoughts, wanting to leave - I think not Running streams and worn leaves, pair less shoes near empty booze Each one takes a slot, making my breath simply stop In pause, wanting...

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