anticipated Albany albatrosses
buried bumpy bugs beyond the bay
creepy curious cats dug them up
dinner for dogs they said in disgust
even the dogs turned up their snouts at the bugs
frenzied finicky felines are crazy they barked
giant crows arrived and devoured the gruesome bugs
helping themselves to six or eight at a time
I am glad these raptors showed up said the dogs
jealousy in no way entering their heads
kilt-wearing albatrosses happened along
lingering close to where their bug stash used to be
mad now, they marched menacing around the meadow
no need to be upset, the bugs escaped, lied the dogs
opportunity to be peacemakers always taken by pups
pacifists and problem solvers
quails and quackers put their six cents in
raising the ire of the miffed albatrosses
sixteen sparrows sauntered in to stir things up too
they had heard there was a show-down
ugly words were tweeted and chirped
verbs and vowels best not repeated here
wrens and warblers were shooed off by the fray
‘xact ‘xchange never ‘xamined or journaled
you are lucky you escaped this melee
zealous birds can become dangerously ugly.
Resident warblers,
different species share
dedicated lookout,
for the cat beware --
they frolic about,
sally as children
wings splashing
refreshing Birder’s bath~
enters Lucifer,
the neighbor’s cuddly
clawing wrath --
The beast Alhambra
roared a violent psalm
Vile conversos
horrid moriscos,
the heretic herds
A spear thrust into
our sun’s martyred ribs
Held in hateful grips
the yellow warblers
dripped in crimson sheen
Flying like Michael
the vengeful vassal
of Aragon’s decree
“O Torquemada
Hark the righteous call
King of Suprema
Execute them all!”
Cold unfeeling wretch,
the flesh guillotine
Teeth clicking sparks
lit endless pyres
Three made Seville
weep at the sight of Friars
The night wind was icily cold.
No herons or olive tree warblers flew,
Only hooded black ravens,
preying on the souls of lost men.
More red-pinkish flowers
dropped from the tree,
leaving the branches bare
until in a few days
the green leaves will sprout,
and the tree will remain flowerless,
an ugly sight, shunned by all.
Suddenly the wind dropped.
He felt despair, sullen and dejected.
Soon no one heard of him anymore.
Some say he hanged himself
upon the very tree that sheds its flora,
Others believed he fell on a stump
that pierced his bowels as he lived
a recluse amongst an unknown tribe.
Others made him their hero
just for the sake of being different.
But he was seen no more.
The icy night wind blew,
the Judas tree shed its odorless flowers,
as true lovers escaped to scented bowers.
from woodpeckers and sparrows
to starlings and warblers
all get along
at the feeders
but for
the
feathered equivalent of a
sociopath called
a cannibal
the bluejay
that eats
alone
we're like ants always
at war with each
other
len
“feeling not thinking, soul with love linking ~
we attained God consciousness unblinking”
Nestled deep within the feel and touch of home
this heart of love goes on a holiday
Like feathered birds in heaven when they roam
all thoughts of you arise, like birds of clay
Nestled deep within the soul I have no choice
but flap my wings and lead you to my heart
Like warblers in the sun with trilling voice
all thoughts of you sing sweet, it is an art
Nestled at the font of love the heart's own mind
is like a shelter of collective pasts
Like memories of old that can't go blind
all ardors of the heart seem to outlast
Unblinking as the sun that shines inside my heart
the heart and mind of you and I, will never part.
Gentle tributary
of a hill-born river
suburban lake caressed
acres of fertile land -
paddy rich, growing fields
Schools of fish raced at depths
water-birds, herons, egrets,
warblers, mynas, pipits,
swallows, shikra, barbets, owls
Bowl that held varied lives
The surrounding city
rapidly scales cloud- heights, as
skilled strategists, land grabbers,
investors, policymakers,
now take her on a ride
The silenced birds, once family
to the lively-living lake,
their provider, now watch
from a mile, her being led
like a lamb to the slaughter
chemical sewers, toxic algae
rotting froth, foam, fumes engulf
volatile, fire-prone, wasted,
water body stands scrapped
A stilled lake, beyond repair
In the realms of love, hearts are
entwined and set alight,
Emotions roam day and night,
Dreams turn into reality,
And a note saying take care
as it's easy to lose your sanity.
In this enchanted place, darkness
and shadows of doom disappear,
Flowers bloom all year, and the flame
of hope is always burning here,
Hearts dance with joy hearing the
Great Reed Warblers sing,
Their beautiful song makes Winter
seem like Spring.
In this sanctuary of love each smile,
a sunbeam,
Each glance, a silent promise,
Every heartbeat echoes a thrill,
Words are few, and with a gentle
touch, souls beam with excitement
and are no longer tranquil.
In the realms of love, spirits lift,
Happily, they wander through
the world searching for True Love,
a rare and precious gift,
Once found, two hearts sync,
hope’s fire ignites and feelings of joy
hint that the search wasn’t in vain,
The gift of True Love is a tapestry
woven with threads of joy, compromise
and pain.
By Zyrool
A-rush
In a feather ruffling frenzy
cooling the flamboyant sunrise
muffling the warblers
with waffling winds
chilling the audience
in an ice-like stare
your shivery essence
ricochets through the canyon
startles the cliffs
bellows amid the echoes
of yesteryears challenge
stirs a red dust devil
they call you cold, December
for they are frail
and cannot bear the sting
of Winter’s hoary kiss
Silent warblers perch as garden’s crooners
With crest-petalled wings flapping as banners
All day long they exude unfading light
That no woeful glooms conceal their brightness.
a flitting bouquet
plumage versus foliage
warblers on display
Mysterious blue
as midnight moonlight spills on
meandering dreams.
Once butterflies' ball is done
merlot bliss lies past the sun!
Red Mars reveries
join nights of mulberry rose
camouflaging green.
So many are not sleeping
when the yellow warblers sing.
Where's the pink-footed goose that evil-minded Warde
tried to catch? Didn't the bird follow his shrieking horde?
He was parched on the white oak over the small lake,
On Monday he was startled by the total solar eclipse!
Birds like their freedom, nobody should cage them;
they'll die a horrible death: no sun, no spring in bloom!
If the human spirit is isolated, it'll feel the same effect;
set all your prisoners free, extend your visual aspect!
Don't I miss the pink-footed goose quite and beautiful?
He knew I wouldn't harm him and swooping down
to pick up his breadcrumbs, he got close feeling grateful;
without warblers, there'll be no sounds at rising dawn!
Where's the pink-footed goose that I watched
from below with a curious glance, he didn't warble
or chase after a butterfly, his silence was miserable;
did he grieve his long-gone feathered friend?
Geese grieve too, it's not only humans who do;
take in consideration their sorrow: we are alike!
I keep coming to this lake where white doves coo;
they miss their friend: their cry is far from divine!
I dreamt of blue birds
and buzzing bumble bees.
I roamed with the bison herds,
prayed with mantis on our knees,
and butterflies in the breeze.
I greeted the cheery chickadees,
dragonflies, and snowy owls.
I marveled at graceful manatees.
raucous sounds of guinea fowls,
and warblers’ velvet vowels.
I raved at ravens
dancing on a fertile field.
Mice sought havens,
safe shelters that red ants build
in hopes from spiders to shield.
I spotted rain-drenched
autumn leaves in tapestries,
their beauty strangely entrenched.
Purple hues imbued in varying degrees,
of gladiolas and sweet peas.
So many perfect pleasures,
many another than these.
All of God’s treasures,
created with love to please,
arranged to calm my world with ease.
Once
dormant
seeds bloom in
white, red and pink
tulips with perfumed
primrose on a green quilt.
Basking in warmer weather,
warblers warble a sweet chorus,
perched on branches with fresh verdant leaves,
as nature revives its breath taking charm.
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