Never look for birds of this year in the nests of the last.
quote by Miguel de Cervantes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
There are no birds of this year in last year's nests.
The big nest was in Afghanistan, thats not quite cleared, then there are nests in the Philippines, there are nests in Indonesia, the Malaysians are clearing up their nests.
quote by Lee Kuan Yew
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be Like A Bird
Birds build their own nests
one twig at a time
little by little.
Birds build their own nests
strong enough
for raising their young ones
until they know
how to fly.
Be like a bird
even if it takes time
build your own home.
Be like a bird
build your home strong enough
for raising your children
until they know how to live
...on their own.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Birds Turning South
stacking wood,
chill morning air...
birds turning south.
axe and boots,
old truck loaded down....
birds turning south.
dreams and passions,
tied down and loaded,
birds turning south.
memory stained moments,
when the earth stoppt turning...
birds turning south.
now nothing more than
empty nests, a stray feather...
birds rurning south!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Harvest Moon
It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes
And roofs of villages, on woodland crests
And their aerial neighborhoods of nests
Deserted, on the curtained window-panes
Of rooms where children sleep, on country lanes
And harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests!
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests,
With the last sheaves return the laboring wains!
All things are symbols: the external shows
Of Nature have their image in the mind,
As flowers and fruits and falling of the leaves;
The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Because We Have Never Told Them
there is a straight path
and you want to walk straight to it
you cannot, there is this desire to
go inside a circle and hide
behind those curves,
there is this wish to find a resting place
a glass cage
a one-way mirror where you see all of them
and then
no one sees you
sometimes i look for some reasons why
this behavior is sought
there is this straight path that nobody wants to take
it is too tight in there
and everyone sees you
and their gaze hurt a lot
and you do not deserve to suffer upon their causes
no wonder birds travel on clouds
and build their nests
how men made walls
how women hide their faces on hats and
winter coats
there is this secret that we keep
that we bring even to our death
it is this secret that makes us what we are
others miss us
because we have never told them
the trees wish to look inside the nests
where birds have already flown away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Two Birds
The eagle and the hawk
all dwell in the sky
and all fly from heights
but the eagle rules and the hawk follows.
Yet they are two birds
The owl and the dove
all fly in the sky
and all dwell in nests
but the dove carries blessings
and the owl carries curses.
yet they are two birds still.
The two birds!
pride and humility
all dwell in our hearts
and sleep in the warmth of our egos
but humility shines while pride fades
There two birds still
The two birds!
sin and salvation
all appear in the world's contest
show casing life and death
but salvation heals, sin kills
yet these are two birds
poem by Timothy muggaga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Nicest Season For One To Die
The nicest Season for one to die must surely be the Spring
When the Parklands wear their Wildflowers and song birds pipe and sing
And young birds are chirping in their nests and the sparrows all the day
Are busy under the house eaves weaving their nests of hay.
If I'm not burned to ashes then why not bury me
In that old graveyard on the hill preferably by a tree
Where in Spring birds will build their nest and sing their songs above where I lay
Though what happens to your remains when you are dead doesn't matter some do say.
We all belong to Mother Nature and to her we must return sometime
The reaper takes the young and old and those in their life's
prime
And since I too must die I hope 'twill be when flowers are in full bloom
In the prime of Spring when the air scent sweetly of Nature's own perfume.
Bury me in the Graveyard on the hill where peace is to be found
Beside a tree where birds nest and sing content in their home ground
A quiet place free of man made noise when Spring is in the air
In Nature's bosom I will rest beyond any living care.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poet
'THE blackbird's in the briar,
The seagull's on the ground-
They are nests, and they're more than nests,' he said,
'They are tokens I have found.
There, where the rain-dashed briar
Marks an empty glade,
The blackbird's nest is seen,' he said,
'Clay-rimmed, uncunningly made.
By shore of the inland lake,
Where surgeless water shoves,
The seagulls have their nests,' he said,
'As low as catties' hooves.'
I heard a poet say it,
The sojourner of a night;
His head was up to the rafter,
Where he stood in candles' light.
'Your houses are like the seagulls'
Nests they are scattered and low;
Like the blackbirds' nests in briars,' he said,
'Uncunningly made even so.
But close to the ground are reared
The wings that have widest sway,
And the birds that sing best in the wood,' he said,
'Were reared with breasts to the clay.
You've wildness I've turned it to song;
You've strength I've turned it to wings;
The welkin's for your conquest then,
The wood to your music rings.'
I heard a poet say it,
The sojourner of a night;
His head was up to the rafter,
Where he stood in candles' light.
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring In Victoria
The bottlebrushes laden with crimson flowers
And there is warmth in the October breeze
And with her Spring has brought her blooms and greenery
And birds are singing on the sunlit trees.
Spring in Victoria my favourite time of year
The birds build their nests and raise their families
The weather not too cool or not too warm
A high today of 17 degrees.
The distinct call sounds of the magpie lark
And the Indian mynah sings his scratchy song
Some birds are easy to identify
And by their voices you never get them wrong.
Spring in Victoria is a time of bloom
And sun shines brightly after the brief showers
The fruit trees cloaked in blossoms of pale pink
And gardens look resplendent in their flowers.
My favourite season is always the spring
And spring in Victoria is now in her prime
The wild birds sing and gardens are in bloom
But Nature's beauty fades with the passage of time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God gives all birds their food but does not drop it into their nests.
Two love birds
Upon great heights they reached,
Going east and going west,
For long they defied gravity,
For too long they resisted the wind,
The two love birds
The clouds of thunder gathered,
Yet their hearts frightened not,
Lightning struck yet it spared them,
The darkness approached them,
Yet they still rejoiced,
Flying without getting tired,
Stregnth renewed and renewed again,
The two love birds
Their nests were never known,
Yet they wanted one of their own,
It was love and so it was,
The two love birds,
Times and moments came and pass,
Many wished them to fall,
Yet a few had hope for them all,
Yet they stood strong and tall,
Fly and fly away,
Two beautiful love birds
poem by Gaylord Munemo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love....my Dear...
This is the garden
where yellow daffodils bloom throughout summer
There are trees around here
where birds build their nests
Birds sing and play
feeding on sesame seeds
in a small house i build for them
hanging on the
gutter
This is a cozy room my dear
where i undress before you
without feeling
any shame
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun sets in the west
Birds fly back to their nests
Nature’s cue – take rest
haiku by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All birds must be by now back in their nests
All birds must be by now back in their nests
Sharing with their offsprings
The experiences of the day
And feeding them
With the fruits, nuts and worms
Selectively gathered
With love and care
So that they grow
And soon become strong and skilled enough
To fly on their own wings
They would have started teaching
Their young ones
How to mend the nests
Which twig would go where
Which spongy feather would go where
So that all can have a comfortable sleep
Telling the stories of the past
How the eggs those hatched them
Were protected from invaders
And how they were waiting for these young wonders
Come out breaking the shell
That housed them and helped them shape
Also cautioning them against
Dangerous hungry invaders
With the scheme to devour them
And not to venture into the wind
Before they are trained adequately
In spreading the wings
And in perching on branches
Without the fear of fall
Mom, you did not get us the fruits of this tree
A query from a young one
And mom said, wait two more weeks let the tree flower
And blossom with its orange flowers
Fruits appear within a month
Mom is living is just struggling
No, the dear one
Living is a challenge
Successful living is facing them with joy
Regardless of your overcoming
Or succumbing to the challenge
A clear demonstration of care and love
All birds must be by now in their nests
I am waiting at the local rail station
For the next train towards home
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: All Things Have a Purpose
A wild tree grows for ants to be its guests!
Old water-tank helps frogs spawn, croak each year;
A neem tree grows for birds to build their nests;
The refuse-dumps rear insects sounding ear.
The cut tree-trunks help white ants eat and breed;
The papayas help birds to beak with joy;
On wild berries, squirrels happily feed;
The tall palm-trees house pea-fowls to enjoy.
The wilder trees add greenness to the earth;
The wild flowers give nectar to wild bees;
The parrot-noise though disturbing, gives mirth;
His duty to His creatures all, God sees.
Don’t blame something if you can’t understand;
God knows the uses of the desert-sand!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just For Once
wind blowing
in continuous sweeps
rain falling
in endless sheets
birds and bees
stilled in their nests
shake the heart
of its long drawn stillness
to assume
all ears and eyes
to catch the melody
of your approaching foot-steps
to absorb your prescence
just for once
before birds and bees
awaken to life...
30oct2010
12.04hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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