As the old birds sings, the young ones twitter.
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As the old birds sing, so the young ones twitter.
My Heart Sings
My heart sings.
My heart sings the songs of happiness.
My heart sings the songs of joy.
My heart sings the songs of peace.
My heart sings the songs of the Blues.
My heart sings the songs of the Gospel.
My heart sings the songs of good news.
My heart cries a melody for all to hear.
My heart sings the harmonies of love.
My heart sings a song of beauty
that comes from the Thorne Birds
just before they die.
My heart sings songs to keep me alive.
My heart sings songs for as long as it beats.
My heart sings forever.
My heart sings haluwasa.
My heart sings.
poem by Jennifer Burns
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Poem about Poetry - the bird belting out a poem
twilight amusement
the different IQs
that make their way
to my room
dividing the world
in the form of chirp
chirp, chirp, chirp
twitter, twitter, twitter
in so many styles
and tones and syllables,
some extended,
some short broken notings
as diverse as the blooms in the garden
warbling, twittering, twit, tweedling, chirping
chirping, chirp
the singing IQ chart
try, try, try, you never know
how good you are if you never try
the varying quality bird songs
from the large garden tree
each bird's chirp
a humble contribution
from a little creation
each chirp divides the world
at morn, at dusk
what a delight to the ears, mind
simple short noted twitter
long extended mutli-toned varied tweedle
the varying quality poems
those chirpy nature poems
by celebrity birds
the like of sylvia plath,
and proletarian birds
the like of impoverished citizens
of the world
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Some Birds
Some Birds
Do twitter
In the skies
Like the pulse
Of our hearts -
My heart
Do twitter
For the pulse
Of his heart
With my heart!
poem by Eman Elbadawi
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House-broken Sparrow
HOUSE-BROKEN SPARROW
Twitter twitter tweet,
Life on the off-beat,
Sparrow shuddering in all seasons,
Bundled like a dropp or a blister of pain for no reason.
Spawns in home’s for human warmth,
With tiny leftovers of someone else’s mirth,
While it’s country cousin flies in the opposite direction
In search of another higher hearth.
Bawling their daily needs of socks, groceries& milk bottles,
Screaming platitudes for shunning chores, in trees.
Twitter twitter tweet,
For a crumb of bread or a grain of wheat
An inch off a ledge can suffice for yesterday’s sour things &today’s house-warming,
Witness to broken homes, neglected porches, overflowing taps, faulty plumbing,
The man of the house in this century has gone missing,
While the kids await manhood with his picture in fine dressing.
Here the sparrow brings forth its young,
Its entire brood presides over the reality T.V spun,
In the drawing room played out from tear-dripping ceiling, learn.
Twitter twitter tweet,
But when one chick loses balance, shoved by a brother,
For a better morsel or in the custom of sibling rivalry,
In midst of a twittering choir,
Falls down from high-rise &lands on the floor.
Those fatherless kids pick it up to father it, the scourge is prod den,
The sparrow wouldn’t touch the fallen young,
Wary that the jinx of resident evil has befallen.
But would prefer to sit on its high perch,
And in tearless eyes call,
Twitter twitter tweet
X----x----X
29September20 09
poem by Seema joglekar
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Twitcher and the Bird Sanctuary
I see many species of birds
from morning till night.
They speak different languages
the migratory birds from all over the world.
What a colourful pagentry and harmony?
Nobody carries weapons
and no any harshness.
So it's very harmless to be with them forever.
Their twitter makes me happy
and I want to be single
whole of the journey.
If she comes I fear the birds won't be here.
She scolded me in her last letter.
'You are good for nothing; a Gooseberry
one day you sink with your birds
in your own bottomless harbour.
Your holey gondola won't be long-standing.
My wicked Gondolier,
you propel with your rickety pole to the hell!
Wind up,
your unfortunate wino Goddess.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Soul sings other’s poem
Soul sings other’s poem
When you don’t write one
It sings as if it is a dawn
In a tune of silence
Undresses unaware of around
Echoes to the strokes
As if it is climax…
Sings a song of rape
Unless you write one of Union….
Soul sings other’s poem
poem by Free Birds
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Continually the red weaver gambols
Continually the red weaver gambols around,
when the dove continually sings in sorrow
and he lands frolicking on the wet ground,
before it takes insects to its chicks
that twitter, jump up and down in the nest,
and at night when the moon rises silver-white,
when small sounds pierce through everything
then I hear a joyous song and then I hear him
tell about life, about every small thing,
when that small bird sings with caring affection.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Spring
Flowers are on their way to bloom
Birds do twitter in the sky
You see
The sea &
The sky
Are blue
Love is the essence of life
And I am on my way to you!
poem by Eman Elbadawi
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Birds tweet, and twitter
They are the unheard romance
In everyones heart.
haiku by Yuki Star Uzumaki
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The Day That The First Rain Comes In Spring
The day that the first rain comes in spring
they say then all of the birds sing,
with not a cloud is in the sky
while the sun is shining,
that they sing their praises with voices that ring
and on that day there’s a great blessing
but while I look on a bright spring day,
there was no rain falling,
while the birds did twitter and play.
poem by Gert Strydom
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April
The roofs are shining from the rain,
The sparrows twitter as they fly,
And with a windy April grace
The little clouds go by.
Yet the back-yards are bare and brown
With only one unchanging tree --
I could not be so sure of spring
Save that it sings in me.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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The Wind
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies' skirts across the grass--
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all--
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Answer To A Child's Question
Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,
The linnet, and thrush say, 'I love and I love!'
In the winter they're silent, the wind is so strong;
What it says I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving, all come back together.
Then the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings, and forever sings he--
'I love my Love, and my Love loves me!'
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Ocean of Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
In spring Earth is a Beauty;
Flowers smile with gaiety.
Cuckoo sings with delight;
Mother Vinapanee attracts the devotee.
Cosy blossoms smile on the tree;
On the trees birds are free.
Golden sun beam kisses the blossoms;
Welcoming mother beauteous blossoms bloom.
Vernal Breeze blows from South;
Peasants, poets enchant with mirth.
Fraternity reigns in all creatures;
Lovers enchant with profound pleasure.
Adorned with green robe the bride smiles gaily;
Tiny birds twitter delightfully.
With profound pleasure women perform duty;
Children go through books with gaiety.
Intellectuals swear to serve the society;
Scientists enchant with gaiety.
Poet’s pray sweet lovely Mother;
She contents their desire.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Allie
Allie, call the birds in,
The birds from the sky.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Down they all fly.
First there came
Two white doves
Then a sparrow from his nest,
Then a clucking bantam hen,
Then a robin red-breast.
Allie, call the beasts in,
The beasts, every one.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
In they all run.
First there came
Two black lambs,
Then a grunting Berkshire sow,
Then a dog without a tail,
Then a red and white cow.
Allie, call the fish up,
The fish from the stream.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Up they all swim.
First there came
Two gold fish,
A minnow and a miller's thumb,
Then a pair of loving trout,
Then the twisted eels come.
Allie, call the children,
Children from the green.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Soon they run in.
First there came
Tom and Madge,
Kate and I who'll not forget
How we played by the water's edge
Till the April sun set.
poem by Robert Graves
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We Sing History
History sings, sings what?
Violence? Peace? No.
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears.
Like birds chirping
early in the morning.
We learn it. We treasure it.
We sing it… we sing it.
We became part of it.
It was always burning
since the world’s been turning…
History is an endless song.
Distressing, cheerful.
So many cries, so many deaths.
They fought for freedom,
we fight for peace.
Have we won?
Haven’t they heard we won the war
what do they keep on fighting for?
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears?
Like stars gleaming
in the dark naked sky.
It’s always there.
So why sing it? Why hear it?
Why learn it? Why treasure it?
Because…
we’re part of it….
poem by Fritzner Erauda
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Early Morning When The First Rays Fall
Early morning when the first soft rays fall,
when the awakening sun hangs blood red
this part of the great universe recall,
the awakening has been acquired
when the awakening sun hangs blood red
birds twitter with the jolly songs they sing,
the awakening has been acquired
as the good news of the morning they bring.
birds twitter with the jolly songs they sing
to and thro many insects and bees fly
as the good news of the morning they bring,
fluttering on flowers under the sky.
Early morning when the first soft rays fall,
this part of the great universe recall…
poem by Gert Strydom
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Love And Life
LOVE only sings when Love is young,
When Love is young and still at play,
How shall we count the sweet songs sung
When Love and Joy kept holiday?
But now Love has to earn his bread
By lifelong stress and toil of tears,
He finds his nest of song-birds dead
That sang so sweet in other years.
For Love's a man now, strong and brave,
To fight for you, for you to live,
And Love, that once such bright songs gave,
Has better things than songs to give;
He gives you now a lifelong faith,
A hand to help in joy or pain,
And he will sing no more, till Death
Shall come to make him young again!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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