Warble Poems | Examples

When God Whispers

When God whispers, the sky turns blue.
Bright flowers broadcast every hue.
Mauve mountains shade green valleys deep
where dog and boy keep frisky sheep.
Brimming rivers run clear and true.

Forests beckon all creatures who
follow the path of bear and shrew.
Where willows arise tall, but weep
	…when God whispers.

Birds relating the miles they flew
keenly warble their points of view
and I within my full heart keep
gratitude for all things I reap
	…when God whispers.

Smirk

In our maniacal world madness cosplay nativity.
When sanctuary is cynical take cyanide outside in 
a synchronized social suicide. 
Life at your disposal realize life is disposable.

Lacking eye warble, below-zero countertop marble.
Stumble over the five o'clock Hobble.
Humble, Crumpled up macro-cookie crumble.
Spade shovel buried down transient mumble.

Blood musk parfume; false whale entrails. 
Innards inward into inferior interior design.
Set fire to the nativity scene, in our maniacal world
It'll still continue in laughing, surround sound loud.
It'll still narcissistically orbit around me.

Outstanding flavour; some forever ever-lasting long. 
Ever-after ended up ending fantastic. God dammit.
Gob-smacker, toe tapper, boot-smacker. 
Folded laundry lay on the nighttime pavement.

It'll still go. 
In the Age of Spin.

It just happen.
No way, It just happen?
It just happen.
It go like it just happen.
It go how it just happen.
What happen? 
It just happen.

My Magpies

Morning magpies warble loudly
Sitting in the treetops proudly.
Greet us singing, early sunrise
Warble loudly morning magpies.

Melodies sweet always bringing
Early sunrise, greet us singing. 
All synchronised twitter and tweet
Always bringing melodies sweet

When together they’re harmonised
Twitter and tweet all synchronised.
Clear sunshine or rainy weather
They're harmonised when together

These magpies I am glad their mine
Rainy weather or clear sunshine.
Around, always habitual
I never miss their ritual.

Tweets and Texts

Creatures chirrup, chirp and tweet
Or warble in their way,
All so that in case they meet,
They’ll know just what to say.

It’s kind of like a human text 
Or email or a call,
Preparing what to talk of next
If they connect at all.

Or maybe all this reaching out
Is just to hear expressed
The sounds that show what we’re about
To set our minds at rest.

Spring Hiku 12

                  Spring Hiku 12


  wrens warble on trees

            river   r a            
                             m b      le
                                                  s
                                                       to the sea

                                    of   i   n    f    i    n    I    t    y.

Lovely Little Blue Bird

“Wake to the chirping of birds, get elated by their songs, allow the music to settle in your heart and dismiss all defeatist thoughts. Instead of burrowing like a mole, fly high like a bird” ~ By Poet

Oh! Lovely little bird, soaring and swirling,
Sliding and sweeping, making the sky your pathway,
Possessing the poet’s soul, you make me cheerful, 
With songs mellifluous and melodious.

You dive and glide through cotton candy clouds,
With dizzy spells and a spirit so buoyant.
You roam and ride through air, trusting on your wings.
You are out on an odyssey to cross a thousand seas.

With black and beady eyes, you spot everything,
And watch the world from up above.
You wear a dazzling robe of vivid bluish hues.
You have rainbow pinions and a beak so sleek. 

You chirpy friend, as you sing in tuneful voice from above,
Your songs fall in my ears as midnight choir from afar.
As you warble in sweet rhythm and lovely cadence,
You tell me that sweet spring of beauty and bliss is here.

Spring

chill stills, spring turns the tide - blooms open, bees hum, birds warble and heart throbs

Christmas Word Morph

.                        HARK the heralding angels sing.
                         DARK night, born, Christ the King.
                         DART across the skies, a star.
                         PART to signal Christ's birth afar.
                         PARK their camels, three wise men.
                         LARK and nightingale warble Amen.
                         LANK shepherds pray on high.
                         SANK and descended, the star is nigh.

Remembrance Day 2024

I saw students placing flags on the resting places of our honoured dead……

Remembrance Day 2024

The flags flutter from grave to grave
Marking the lying place of our honoured brave
The magpies warble on the breeze
And the smell of eucalyptus permeates the trees 

The brass plaques tell a story
Of women and men gone to glory
Who went to war in khaki and blue
To defend democracy as they wanted to

The lines are straight as their marching battalions
ANZAC values learnt when they were lions
Endurance, courage, ingenuity, good humour, and mateship
Standing tall for us because of it.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Two Windows

There are two windows in my house blest, one is to east and one is to west 
From one I see sunrise and from other sun sets, one face highway and other forest
I observe people from one and birds from others, people seem hustle and birds continue warble
I see streetlight with other moon sight; people I observe tends to have work stress and birds are just relaxed
I learn life from people's stress and from birds how to be fearless
Life is a long journey ahead but I don’t want this view to hide, from world by my side,
So I want to let u know there are always two windows, one with reality and other with clarity 
And yes I love both with all my heart and no one can break this apart
I love the way I reside, happy and healthy life.

My drug of addiction

I see peace in the bright blue skies, in the paddocks green
In the warble from the magpies tounge in the breath of
God I come undone, in the pouring rain there are melodies
To heal hearts and fill the soul of me, I take strength from
Others of the human race' i note the joy we can embrace!
I see gold in the seashores sand; in sunbursts on rooiftops
Its vast and grand..From Kempsey down to Wangaratta
I listen to traffic on the m25 and yearn to be far from
Londons tide.' To return once more to penong and look
Over the plains, toward Perth or maybe i'd jump the train?
Take the Indy ride.. back to the Eastern States, buy some tinnies
And conjugate.? Eat Barrumundi maybe redfinToo? I'm game.'
Now I'm worn and battered.. I need home again..I need the
Drive of the Aussie folk, the strength of un-assuming women and blokes, And I know I'd slip right in..Like wool off the woolshed table
I'd be right into the bin.'

Loud words

In the silence of the night, there comes a slam, 
A door swings wide, a sudden splash of rain, 
The thunder echoes with a mighty bam, 
While rivers babble tales of joy and pain. 

The birds awake and start to warble tunes, 
As streams begin to gurgle in their flow, 
The wind begins to softly mumble runes, 
And trees release a gentle, leafy belch below. 

A distant clang rings out, the night alive, 
As branches crackle underfoot, they thrive.

frenzied caw of crow

frenzied caw of crow
warning of oncoming doom
incessant warble

Symphony of the Sunrise

Brandishing the lightning lance, the sun arrives,
The mighty, majestic monarch of the day.
Kissing the mouldy mountain rows, he comes,
Banishing mist and frost from night’s blotched brow.

With what rich ruby ring of radiance he appears, 
Smearing liquid gold, he gracefully moves.
Sparkling splashes spread and the world becomes bright.
The punctual rooster raises his raucous revelry. 

Birds and beasts wake up from their slumberous sleep.
The feathered folks begin to warble their symphony.
The verdant vales below send up a welcoming sign.
The leaves stay bright tipped with dainty droplets of dew.

Morn, the bashful maiden with modest grace,
Peeps through half drawn curtains in the East.
Removing all trace of a worn out yesterday,
Sun comes and mellow murmurs grow into melodies.

A Wish for Spring

All the long and lonely winter, hearts
beckon with wishes for Spring.
Chilled beneath a blanket of snow,
deep dark and cold,
echoes of a robin's warble and 
fleeting dreams of hazy mornings
grip my memories where
hammocks slowly swing
in a shaded grove.
Just as promised when Autumn fell, I
kept a wish locked lost and
lazy in the mist where daydreams dwell, so
many days left waiting since
November locked
October's door.
Persistent as a
quest that's sating,
reveling in the season's rains,
spring slips sultry, summer's sister
teases us with earth's refrain.
Underneath ice coated boughs the
very last of
winter falls like a tickled
xylophone, until the
yellow suns of Summer strike a
zenith in June.

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