Thrush Poems - Poems about Thrush

Oh mirror of my soul where have you gone, now that the forest wind has set you free? Days grown long, yet the same sun tumbles on, as a quiet Song thrush sings back to me. Radio croons a song, in silky drawl.. of latticed roses in proper pink dress. Meadow melody sung in summer squall, and life's mystery left only to...

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The fledging thrush appreciate their Mothers rung Fresh worms Fleet less they aspire to fly Secure in nest an eiderdown of feathers they hang onto every tweet mindful their day will come...

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It's dusk, almost an hour from sunset and the wood thrush is not cheery; his melody is a whisper heard in a lot, where he sang with others happily! The wood thrust with auburn wings and round belly couldn't find a stream in a nearby forest and fled fled here to drink from the water fountain color grey brushed by a sudden...

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Where are you Mr Thrush? Where can you be? Your a handsome little fellow Sadly I no longer see. No longer do I hear your call Or see you perched on my wall Where are you Mr Thrush? Please come back and visit me. Your one of natures treasures Don a coat of brown feathers Your heart is shown on your chest Your love to...

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~ spring is a time for quiet thoughts - it is impossible to explain what is happening to your soul ~ It's spring and you believe...

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In the still of the night the orange headed ground thrush perched on a tree outside, calls out in earnest beseeching his mate to join him in intimate embrace. A perfect interruption as a wake up call suitably timed for meditation! As though by telepathy, the thrush calms down to only occasionally resume its melody...

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That thrush so high up on the tree, does it sing for you or me? Its trills I hear with such delight even though it's not in sight. Then it's quiet. I peer and stare. Has it flown? I wonder where? And now it's on a neighbours' tree. Is it's song for them or me? Over the fence its song proclaims worms and snails...

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Why is Venus called the god of love If you knew Samantha, she makes guys gush A technique so cunning Downright stunning Grabs us by the “blank” as we sing like a wood thrush...

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white thrush and white crow fight which one's biggest outcast - black sheep watches them *The idioms “white thrush” (merle blanc) in French and “white crow” (belaya vorona) in Russian correspond to “black sheep” in English. 11.07.2019 Black Sheep Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Anthony Slausin...

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So it is my theory there is nothing more cheery; that first vision bleary, that first feathered dearie... Ooh, look! One so leery... It's a precious little Veery! Mind the birder standing teary; She's just shedding winter dreary. 18.03.20 Composed for Michael Vacek's Spring Fling Zing Thing King (or Queen)...

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I wonder why of late only certain birds come to the feeding plate. In spring a blend of every species appears fluid as hungry and needy. Winter though, perhaps because of cold and snow that attendance is reduced, to lovers of the oak and mighty spruce; hovering tween bush and brush comes the striped brown colored thrush; windswept by...

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I walk along through forest greens With Wood Thrush singing flute like songs I stop to watch what I have seen It is sitting on a branch, following me along Cheerfully it sings, with music lifting me With joy as if I am also in that tree So clear this perfect day, a path I walk I only have to listen, I...

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Little speckled thrush always in such a hurry more Spring Songs to sing. 8th June 2017. Contest one Haiku, Sponsored by Rick Parise....

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My eyebrowed thrush Did you know that grief is a part of human life if it comes to attack and swim in my heart I need only your tunable chirp your variation tones are my beautiful poems I wish I were you I’d sing my beautiful melody to let every human being be kissed with sweet happiness I’d kick all loneliness With my noisy frenzy till all the...

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In a duet with itself- is never alone...

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