A wayward woman is like the weaver bird. She uses her perch on one tree to scout other trees.
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Dream Weaver
Dream weaver
Ive just closed my eyes again
Climbed aboard the dream weaver train
Driver take away my worries of today
And leave tomorrow behind
Ooh dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh dream weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light
Fly me high through the starry skies
Maybe to an astral plane
Cross the highways of fantasy
Help me to forget todays pain
Ooh dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh dream weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light
Though the dawn may be coming soon
There still may be some time
Fly me away to the bright side of the moon
And meet me on the other side
Ooh dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh dream weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light
Dream weaver
Dream weaver
Dream weaver
- gary wright
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tonight Tonight
tonight i am a tree filled with leaves
and you are the bird looking for a nest
i have my branches for you to perch
to rest and stay for the whole night
agains the cold and damp and dark
sleep little bird, feel my loneliness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Of Syntax
A poet and his bird, his dog, his cat and his tree
A poet and the bird in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree and the wind and the cloud
The bird in the tree, the dog in the tree, the cat in the tree,
The bird in the tree, the dog on the tree, the cat under the tree,
The bird on the tree, the bird in a tree, a bird in a tree, a bird in the tree,
And the wind and the cloud and the poet and his dog and his cat and the tree
The dog chases the cat the cat chases the bird
And they all arrive in that tree
Where the poet is sitting under that tree
The poet takes the dog and the cat was envious
And the bird looks at them in silence
The silence looks at the poet in the eye
Of the cat and the bird flies away
The poet and the dog is the poem of friendship
The cat and the dog is the poem of the endless natural quarrels
And the bird that flies away against the cat and the dog and the poet and the tree
And flies against the wind that the bird is now fighting
And the clouds that seem so blue and blue
The bird that actually flies away
Is actually me
I was not the poet with the dog
I am not the tree I am not the wind I am not the cloud I am not the poet there who had a dog as friend and I was not the quarrelsome thing from the blue and out of the blue
I am the bird with wings and I always fly away to places
Against the wind to places where I can be as always be the bird with wings in silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird-Magic
Where no birds breathe, bird-magic breathes
Bird-beauty, bird-spirit, bird-splendour,
And brings where no bird wings,
Wing-beats that woo me to wonder.
What do I want when a woman can warm
Bird-magic from her bosom, her womanly arms?
Her lips that are petals, her thighs that are trees,
Boughful with blossoms of softness and ease?
What is the liquid that lingers with love
In her voice? Is the music that hangs in her eyes?
The dewdrop.that dangles from finger-tip touch?
The mellifluous magic that moves me so much?
This is no bird-magic:
This is woman, who with a sweep of her hair
Sends birds bursting to wings in the air.
This is woman, whose frown
Droops dark feathers down.
This is woman; her smile, her kiss, her holding in arms,
Hold more bliss for me than bird-charms.
poem by Tan Pratonix
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Baby Bird
Is it true birds fly south for the winter
Wish i was a bird for just one day
I would fly to and perch on your window
My baby bird flew away
I love you my baby bird
But i had to set you free
I watched you glide with the wind high above the trees
Maybe i could be a boat and sail to your shore
I miss my baby bird
So next winter i will move south
I will look for you in the sky
You are no longer a baby bird as you have grown
Do you now have baby birds of your own
I long to see you again my baby bird my best friend
I wish i was a bird for just one day
I would sore sore so high
Wishing is all i can do for now
How is my baby bird
Do you miss me for i miss you
Bye my baby but not goodbye
The Gallant Weaver
Where Cart rins rowin' to the sea,
By mony a flower and spreading tree,
There lives a lad, the lad for me,
He is a gallant Weaver.
O, I had wooers aught or nine,
They gied me rings and ribbons fine;
And I was fear'd my heart wad tine,
And I gied it to the Weaver.
My daddie sign'd my tocher-band,
To gie the lad that has the land,
But to my heart I'll add my hand,
And give it to the Weaver.
While birds rejoice in leafy bowers,
While bees delight in opening flowers,
While corn grows green in summer showers,
I love my gallant Weaver.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Loving Tree
Three women walked upon a road,
And the first said airily,
“Of all the trees in all the world
Which is the loving tree?”
The second said, “My eyes have seen
No tree that is not fair;
But the Orange tree is the sweetest tree,
The loving blood is there.”
And the third said, “In the green time
I knew a loving tree
That gave a drink of the blood-red milk,
It was the Mulberry.”
Then the first one said, “Of all the trees
No sweetest can I name;
Ask her who yonder slowly comes—
That woman lean and lame.”
Grief like a hideous suckling hung
Along her hollow breast,
Pain was upon her as she walked,
And as she stooped to rest.
“Why will you question so?” she said,
“Is it to mock at me?
For how should I, who walk in Hell,
Know of a loving tree?
“My eyes are not as woman's eyes,
They hope not east or west:
Dull Famine my bed-mate is,
And Loneliness my guest.
“ 'Tis not the most delicious flower
That leaves the scent of Spring,
Nor is it yet the brightest bird
That loads his heart to sing.
“A tree may dance in the white weather
Or dream in a blue gown,
A tree may sing as a sweetheart
To bid the stars come down:
“Some trees are slim and lovable
And some are sleek and strong,
But the tree that has the cripple's heart
Will know the cripple's song.
“The sweetest death is the red death
That comes up nakedly,
And the tree that has the foiled heart
It is the loving tree.
“While ever lip shall seek for lip,
While ever light shall fall,
The tree that has the ruined heart
Is tenderest of all.
“Oh, ye may have your men to kiss,
And children warm to hold,
But the heart that had the hottest love
Was never yet consoled.”
The women three walked on their way,
Their shamed eyes could see
How well the tree with the foiled heart
Is still the loving tree.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perch Non Piangi Per Me
RISCHI!?!
E quando mai
Vizi!?!
E cosa vuoi
Ogni tanto vuoi qualcuno che
Che ti porti a letto b
Ah!?
SEI TRISTE!?!
E come mai
AMI!?!
Solo lui
Non ci posso proprio credere
Che
Tu mi stai addirittura piangere!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!! baby
SOFFRI!?!
E come mai
AMI!?!
Solo lui
Ogni tanto vuoi qualcuno
Che
Che mi stai addirittura piangere!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!! baby
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!! baby
PERCH NON PIANGI!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!! baby
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!!
PERCH NON PIANGI PER ME!!! baby
song performed by by Vasco Rossi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
~
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
shaded from the heat of the midday sun
yet still free to ride upon the ocean breeze
whenever it chooses to blow from time to time
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
and chirp my own little song aloud to the world
or to fly amongst the clouds so high above
and look down to watch the world below
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
for all my wishes and day bought dreams
I am here and I am still me writing a poem
about that lucky bird perched in the cypress tree
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mountain Climbing Echo
Flashlights landmarks
Sunlight yellow
Snow white feet frozen
In purity of the dead silence
A bird will perch
From the pines
Nothing else will happen
A mountain climbing echo
Wing-like beats dug in the sky
Closing down
Blue cloud breath broken
Ends the day in a flake
So easy to die and melt
A bird will perch
From the pines
Nothing else will happen
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird in a Cage
How much I feel for the poor things
Unable to fly or spread their wings,
Each day with the same view
Sad and lonely nothing to do.
To the bird the world is that room
Confined to the cage, that's his tomb.
For life without freedom is nothing at all
No matter whether you're big or small.
Longing to fly on the breeze
Soaring high over the trees
Seeing new places every day
Flying and twirling in glorious play.
Never knowing freedom of the bird that fly's
Sitting on his perch ‘till he dies.
How can a bird that's born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing, like a stuffed toy.
© Hazel 2012
poem by Hazel Connelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Be Free
(words & music by jerry leiber - mike stoller)
Theres no joy in my heart,
Only sorrow
And Im sad
As a man can be
I sit alone in the darkness
Of my lonely room
And this room
Is a prison to me
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
What good are my eyes,
They cant see you
And my arms,
They cant hold so tight
I have two lips
That are yearning,
But theyre no good to me
Cause I know I cant kiss you tonight
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Harmony
There is no wind blowing
The tree stands green, serene.
It enjoys the bird's singing
And wonders: 'What does it mean? '
Blessed by this soft rain
Both the bird and the tree
Keep singing tunes again
Flooding the earth with glee!
The bird's chants soar above the tree
This one feels nurtured by them
Its leaves dancing onto the sea
Where the bird goes and treasures them!
poem by Maria C. Costa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Only I Were a Bird
If only I were a bird,
my days would be forever happy
Chirp from tree to tree
And live worry-free.
If only I were a bird,
I would fly from
Cyprus to Chile
and have a tour on earth.
If only I were a bird,
I would dropp fruit seeds
Hoping a fruit tree will grow
For other birds to take shade.
If only I were a bird
I won't be
worrying about work
Bills, car, or clothes
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Be Free (Take 11)
There's no joy in my heart,
only sorrow
And I'm sad
as a man can be
I sit alone in the darkness
of my lonely room
And this room
is a prison to me
I look at window
and what to I see
I see a bird
way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
What good are my eyes,
they can't see you
And my arms,
they can't hold so tight
I have two lips
that are yearning,
but they're no good to me
Cause I know I can't kiss you tonight
I look at window
and what to I see
I see a bird
way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perennial regrets
A bird seeks a tree for its fruit
And its chicks, for its shade
And abandon the tree when it suits.
Man and trees end with regrets.
25.04.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wayward Wind
(neil young)
In a lonesome shack by the railroad track
I spent my younger days
And I guess the sound of the outward bound
Made me a slave
To my wandering queen
And the wayward wind
Is a restless wind
A restless wind
That yearns to wander
And I was born
Next of kin
The next of kin
To the wayward wind
I met her down in a border town
We swore wed never part
Though I tried my best to settle down
Now shes all alone
With a broken heart
And the wayward wind
Is a restless wind
A restless wind
That yearns to wander
And I was born
The next of kin
The next of kin
To the wayward wind
And the wayward wind
Is a restless wind
A restless wind
That yearns to wander
And I was born
The next of kin
The next of kin
To the wayward wind
The next of kin
To the wayward, wayward wind
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let the kite hawk have a perch, and let the eagle also have a perch. Whichever begrudges the other the right to perch, may he break a wing.
The Tree And The Breeze
Have you ever noticed how the trees sway with the breeze?
It's as if they were dancing in rhythm with a mellow tune
Have you ever notice how a tree is home to a bird's nest...
where the birds rest?
It's as if the tree were a peaceful and relaxed get-away
From where their troubles stray
But then the tree also has another side
In which it can take the birds for a bit of a ride
It is its party side...
when a pile of birds get together in one tree...
to sing along to the breeze as back and forth it sways the tree
The tree's stuck in the ground
Every day its life's the same
But the breeze
Now that's a different story
The breeze is free
It goes and comes as it pleases
The tree it seizes
Have you ever noticed half the things a tree does are caused by the breeze?
poem by Amy Parkinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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