BIRD POEMS

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Way To Go

She was born in the hills
dotted with villages quiet and small.
Her village was breathtakingly beautiful
With a scenic landscape,
.....

C K Rawat
My First Ever Mistake

The mistake I had never expected,
I did it without getting into awareness
Of how it would react.
Lacking that girl in me is like lacking
.....

Abubakar Mohammed Musa
Wormwood And Nightshade

The troubles of life are many,
The pleasures of life are few;
When we sat in the sunlight, Annie,
I dreamt that the skies were blue-
.....

Adam Lindsay Gordon
Red Signal

Red is the color of love
But; 4 me red
Is a color of stop
My red signal;my periods
.....

Amina Hanfa
My Mother, Me And Our Special Moment

My world is small, restricted,
I wake up, it's warm and darkness,
I'm floating in the water, but i dont feel coldness,
I feel loved and protected.
.....

Cristina Teodor
Ode To Walt Whitman

By the East River and the Bronx
boys were singing, exposing their waists
with the wheel, with oil, leather, and the hammer.
Ninety thousand miners taking silver from the rocks
.....

Federico Garcà­a Lorca
Is This Democracy

*IS THIS DEMOCRACY?*

Even in the mist of griefs and pains,
When the story shall be divulged,
.....

Paciolo Pen Saint
Walt Whitman

I

I CELEBRATE myself;
And what I assume you shall assume;
.....

Walt Whitman
Lepanto

White founts falling in the courts of the sun,
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;
There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard,
.....

G. K. Chesterton
Unchained

The bird ain't as free as she thinks
Freedom is not just in the air
The prisoner is not enslaved as he thinks
Slavery is not just in a cell
.....

Apollos Alpha
The Dove

I had a dove, and the sweet dove died;
And I have thought it died of grieving:
Oh, what could it grieve for? its feet were tied
With a silken thread of my own hands' weaving.
.....

John Keats
Mazelli: Canto Iii

I.

With plumes to which the dewdrops cling,
Wide waves the morn her golden wing;
.....

George W. Sands
Out Of The East

When man first walked upright and soberly
Reflecting as he paced to and fro,
And no more swinging from wide tree to tree,
Or sheltered by vast boles from sheltered foe,
.....

John Freeman
Solace

There was a rose that faded young;
I saw its shattered beauty hung
Upon a broken stem.
I heard them say, “What need to care
.....

Dorothy Parker
A Sunday Morning Tragedy

I bore a daughter flower-fair,
In Pydel Vale, alas for me;
I joyed to mother one so rare,
But dead and gone I now would be.
.....

Thomas Hardy
My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills

766

My Faith is larger than the Hills-
So when the Hills decay-
.....

Emily Dickinson
In The Wilderness

Alone in desert dreary,
A bird with folded wings
Beholds the waste about her,
And sweetly, sweetly sings.
.....

Morris Rosenfeld
Sigh No More

The cuckoo and the coo-dove's ceaseless calling,
Calling,
Of a meaningless monotony is palling
All my morning's pleasure in the sun-fleck-scattered wood.
.....

D. H. Lawrence
The Corner Stone

Sterile these stones
By time in ruin laid.
Yet many a creeping thing
Its haven has made
.....

Walter De La Mare
The Shield Of Achilles

She looked over his shoulder
For vines and olive trees,
Marble well-governed cities
And ships upon untamed seas,
.....

W. H. Auden
Misconceptions

This is a spray the Bird clung to,
Making it blossom with pleasure,
Ere the high tree-top she sprung to,
Fit for her nest and her treasure.
.....

Robert Browning
My Star

All that I know
Of a certain star,
Is, it can throw
(Like the angled spar)
.....

Robert Browning
A Minor Bird

I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;

Have clapped my hands at him from the door
.....

Robert Frost
A Prayer In Spring

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
.....

Robert Frost
The Blueberries

“You ought to have seen what I saw on my way
To the village, through Mortenson's pasture to-day:
Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb,
Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum
.....

Robert Frost
Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music-hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
.....

Robert Frost
Fragmentary Blue

Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
.....

Robert Frost
In A Vale

When I was young, we dwelt in a vale
By a misty fen that rang all night,
And thus it was the maidens pale
I knew so well, whose garments trail
.....

Robert Frost
Never Again Would Bird’s Song Be The Same

He would declare and could himself believe
That the birds there in all the garden round
From having heard the daylong voice of Eve
Had added to their own an oversound,
.....

Robert Frost
Now Close The Windows

Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.
.....

Robert Frost
Range-finding

The battle rent a cobweb diamond-strung
And cut a flower beside a ground bird's nest
Before it stained a single human breast.
The stricken flower bent double and so hung.
.....

Robert Frost
The Exposed Nest

You were forever finding some new play.
So when I saw you down on hands and knees
I the meadow, busy with the new-cut hay,
Trying, I thought, to set it up on end,
.....

Robert Frost
The Hill Wife

I. LONELINESS

Her Word

.....

Robert Frost
The Oven Bird

There is a singer eveyone has heard,
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
.....

Robert Frost
The Wood-pile

Out walking in the frozen swamp one gray day,
I paused and said, “I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther-and we shall see.”
The hard snow held me, save where now and then
.....

Robert Frost
Wind And Window Flower

Lovers, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.
.....

Robert Frost
Endymion: Book I

ENDYMION.

A Poetic Romance.

.....

John Keats
Endymion: Book Ii

O Sovereign power of love! O grief! O balm!
All records, saving thine, come cool, and calm,
And shadowy, through the mist of passed years:
For others, good or bad, hatred and tears
.....

John Keats
Endymion: Book Iii

There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men
With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen
Their baaing vanities, to browse away
The comfortable green and juicy hay
.....

John Keats
Endymion: Book Iv

Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse!
O first-born on the mountains! by the hues
Of heaven on the spiritual air begot:
Long didst thou sit alone in northern grot,
.....

John Keats
Hyperion: Book I

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
.....

John Keats
Hyperion: Book Ii

Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad place
Where Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd.
.....

John Keats
Ode To A Nightingale

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
.....

John Keats
Sonnet 113: Since I Left You, Mine Eye Is In My Mind

Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,
And that which governs me to go about
Doth part his function, and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
.....

William Shakespeare
Venus And Adonis

Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
.....

William Shakespeare
The Deserted Village

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,
Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain,
Where smiling spring its earliest visits paid,
And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed:
.....

Oliver Goldsmith
A Widow Bird Sate Mourning For Her Love

A widow bird sate mourning for her Love
Upon a wintry bough;
The frozen wind crept on above,
The freezing stream below.
.....

Percy Bysshe Shelley
Adonais

I weep for Adonais-he is dead!
O, weep for Adonais! though our tears
Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years
.....

Percy Bysshe Shelley
To A Skylark

Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
.....

Percy Bysshe Shelley
Out Of The Cradle Endlessly Rocking

1

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle,
.....

Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself

1
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
.....

Walt Whitman
Christabel

PART I

'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock
And the owls have awakened the crowing cock;
.....

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Nightingale

A Conversation Poem, April, 1798

No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
.....

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

Part I

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
.....

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Charlie “bird” Parker [french] (charlie Parker, The Bird)

L'oiseau de peu s'est
fait oiseau bleu. Quel envol !
Tous plein ciel. J'y vole.

.....

James A. Emanuel
Charlie “bird” Parker

Once Ugly Duckling,
rich plumage grew. Poised, Bird flew.
Flocks followed. Me too.

.....

James A. Emanuel
The Corpse Bird

Bed-sick she heard the bird's call
fall soft as a pall that night
quilts tightened around her throat,
her grey eyes narrowed, their light
.....

Ron Rash
Song At The Feast Of Brougham Castle Upon The Restoration Of Lord Clifford, The Shepherd, To The Est

High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,
And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.-
The words of ancient time I thus translate,
A festal strain that hath been silent long:-
.....

William Wordsworth
The Reverie Of Poor Susan

At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years:
Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard
In the silence of morning the song of the Bird.
.....

William Wordsworth
The Solitary Reaper

Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
.....

William Wordsworth