A Foolproof Strategy
What powerful things, are an eagle's wings,
As he soars high on currents of air.
So graceful in flight, when seen at great height,
Oh! How you wish you could be there.
Gliding supreme, in a wonderful dream,
Free as that proud bird of prey.
A beautiful sight, when his sharp eyes alight
On good food, when off on a foray.
In silence he sits, motionless, his wits
Gauging what his next move ought to be.
Such elegance and style, he hunts with such guile,
Endowed with a foolproof strategy.
His skill is top-notch he is always on watch,
For creatures that are travelling with haste.
He swoops with sheer speed, and captures his feed,
Devouring it, and loving the taste.
While he is trailblazing, he rules like a king,
The fields are his conquered domain.
A veritable speeder, a formidable leader,
In legendary splendour, long may he reign.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Bald Eagle
Over the river and soaring high,
Wings spread wide, with confidence assured,
The strength, that mighty strength,
Soaring above, high in the sky,
Seeking prey to feed its young,
The courage of a warrior,
With eyes so keen,
Just as a hero, yet so unsung,
Wings so black, yet head so white,
The Bald Eagle Soars,
In the heavens so blue,
It stands for all, willing to fight,
Freedom it stands for,
A beauty in flight,
A character of strength,
With its beauty it soars
Over the water and then the trees,
With wings spread, as it peers to the ground
Owning the sky, as it soars above
Protecting its country, in the early spring breeze.
poem by B.J. Ayers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird Of Prey
I can see that look that says beware
Try to move in closer if you dare
So I must sit and play
My waiting game
And for a while I know
Shell do the same
Fly away
Watches like an eagle from its eerie
And like a bird of prey
She captures me
But I am older and
More wise than you
Bird of prey
Straight into me you flew
Fly away
Now every time I tried to set her free
Im glad to say she comes
Right back to me
But if I knew she didnt want to stay
I wouldnt try to keep that
Lovely bird of prey
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gliding Bird
(Tom Slocum)
Gliding bird gliding through the sky
I'm wondering why I can't be why I can't be as free
Gliding bird gliding all day long
Sing your secret song away from all these faces that I see
Is where I want to be
My feet are so tired
They walked too many miles
If I run so wild like heaven's child
I'll learn to fly someday
Gliding bird riding in the sun
Rainbow colors run
I hear the wind
I hear its mournful call
Gliding bird high above the sea
Is it longing to be free
Your voice is silent
But your wings tell all
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hunter Bold
An owl, in his solitary state,
Sits motionless and yet,
He's watching with an expert eye,
For the arrival of sunset.
Throughout the night he'll hunt for food,
Swift and silently he flies,
Beneath the branches thick with leaves,
And then across the moonlit skies.
He is a very wise old bird,
Content to sit and wait,
For creatures scurrying in the undergrowth,
Something tasty for his supper plate.
With saucer feathered eyes, and a mottled breast,
He reigns, in his patch, supreme,
A dream in flight, a hunter bold,
A schemer with a cunning scheme.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Flightless Bird
My world is caged in,
I can not fly away,
I can not soar in the clouds,
With the wind and the angels.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I sit here day in and day out,
I watch so many people coming in and going out,
They stay here so happy so proud,
And they leave again without any care in the world.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I remember each face,
I remember them all saying hi waiting for a reply of hello,
They don’t understand how it feels,
They don’t understand what it’s like.
To be a flightless bird with clipped wings.
Wings tucked and head held high I sit here,
I wear a smile on my face and I keep myself beautiful and happy,
But inside all I can see are the bars that surround me,
I can’t get past them I can only sit.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
My world is a room full of people myself the center of attention,
Although I should not complain for this is my life,
And I make them smile I make the children laugh and look in my eyes,
And sometimes they look into my eyes and see my world through my eyes.
They know I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
They’ll stand and watch me as I walk around in my cage,
They’ll be there with me and try to understand.
Then they’ll have to leave and they’ll look over their shoulders.,
And they look into my eyes one last time,
Before they fly away into the world to bring back stories for the flightless bird with clipped wings,
They are my connection to the world,
They show me what they see through their eyes,
They show me wonders and beauties of a world I’ve never seen,
They are my window to the outside,
In their mind I can be a flightless bird in a world of wonder and of flight.
I am only a small bird in a cage that sits in a hotel,
Sits and watches as the world around me fly’s by,
I wait for the occasional stranger who looks into my eyes with knowing,
Maybe a person who is like me like a flightless bird in a cage,
They are my wings, the wings of a flightless bird who’s wings are clipped.
I sit in my own world and watch as it all moves by,
Day after day I watch and I say what is expected of me,
I sit in my world and I go on my own steady journey,
A journey in which I am a silent observer,
A flightless bird with clipped wings in a world of ever changing skies.
By: Bethany Maxwell
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Proud Peacock
I am the Peacock,
the beautiful bride
of the bird kingdom.
I am in no doubt
fairer than the cock
for I dwarf its pride
with feathers that stand-out.
I am the Peacock
who desires serfdom
from the bird kingdom,
for I long to usurp
the title of king
from the strong Eagle
who soars atop
with its air-borne wings.
Though fit as fiddle
with an awesome strength,
gliding the sky’s length
at a blistering pace,
yet dreaded for a face
that is void of grace.
I am the Peacock,
the elegantly clad.
Humans would be mad
to contend with me,
for shame you would see
if unclad they be.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (19 January 2015)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Australia's Vision
ALL still! and, high above, the sun
In cloudless, golden reign —
A mirage in the quivering west —
A horseman on the plain!
Silent, with hand above his eyes,
With thoughts undreamed, unguessed,
Like some bronze shape immovable,
He gazes down the west.
High overhead an eagle soars
On proud, wide-spreading wings;
Crouching, they watch with stricken eyes —
The furred and feathered things.
No song, no sound! but arching skies
With not a cloud to mar;
O horseman, gazing down the west,
What seest thou afar?
Is you a mirage dream, indeed,
Heat-born, shape-thronged, sublime?
Or but a mirror of the things
That thou shalt know in time?
What comes and goes in yonder haze?
What moving things are these?
Are they the masts of battleships,
Or are they phantom trees?
Speak thou, whose eyes are eagle-keen,
Nor dimmed with old regrets;
Are yonder shapes but spectral reeds,
Or are they bayonets?
Look well into the Vision's heart,
O horseman on the plain!
Trust nought except thine own true eyes —
For thine the loss or gain.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Eagle's song
Flying high in the sky, soaring
very high. High as an eagle
Yet only in my mind's eye.
Not giving up, yet continuing,
to try.
Gliding, through the gusty wind.
Until wings and the wind somehow blends together, as an acoustic, melodic strum, and births a song.
A gentle, distinct sound.
Is this the purpose?
A reason to the why,
Pressing through the storm, head lifted high
Eyes finally to see the sun piercing
behind the clouds. The eagle soars.
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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January The Eagle
January the Eagle
Waits up top a hill
It gazes down onto the snowy ground
Without making any sound,
People watch silent and still
As the months march round with clattering sound
Outside their window sills
The eagle tests its wings
Waiting for the song to ring,
Tired of testing, tired of resting,
It screams far and loud
It’s heard all around
Echoing around
The world fast,
As it waits to be freed from the past
It listens until the words are sung
Which are nice and crisp from the slip of a tongue,
January is one again
And new times are ready to begin
The sound will hear loud and clear
As round and beautiful as a sphere,
The sound of future, a light
As magic and wondrous as love at first sight,
Don’t be impatient to hear it
As the songs of future
Can be heard quite near it,
As life is replenished
The sound is heard
With triumphant words
As harsh weather meets nice nature,
A new era has begun,
The Eagle drops
Without a stop,
To soon recover with a turn
The eagle says I shall return,
Just like the month of January
Through rain and sleet
The eagle flies
Its' wings beat
In the cotton blotched sky,
Higher and higher it must fly
To see the sun shine proud
In the bright free sky
The Eagle’s heart of love
January’s white dove,
The Eagle’s talons of strength
January’s unforgiving length,
The Eagle’s wings that soar
Are January’s winds of roar,
The Eagle’s balding white
Reveals January’s loving light,
The Eagle’s eyes are quick and sharp
As January’s musical winter harp,
A bird of prey
A month of new way
January like an Eagle,
Both represent a time when hopes renewed
And long before reviewed,
An Eagle can fly stunningly high
Like spirit of America in tragic time,
As war comes to end a new hate will begin,
Why do we still fly?
Because there’s always the sky.
To dream a dream of peace
Brotherhood united to release
Even through wars of nature or man
The Eagle and the American people
Have something lethal
Freedom and spirit is the weapon of choice
For when bad wind blows
We’ll always fight back with a voice
Beware when the nest is stirred
Out flies the bird
When the eagles fly
Evil will die
For beware not to bother
Our god our father
Our way of living
And your hell-full sinning.
No god would ask for such hate
For it’s the beginning, it’s not too late
A nation torn by others aggression
Looks to support her people with passion
A new birth a waits,
A new lesson others hate,
Freedom and spirit united we stand
No unwanted force shall invade our land,
Sheltering wings of protection to provide
For a nation full of honor and pride,
January is the beginning
And the Eagle is the spirit of the living.
poem by Will David
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Snow Cat
The tiger stirred from sweet repose
For hunger grew once more...
Despite the cool, cool ice that froze,
The pain began to gnaw...
His eyes now looked with stern intent
At creatures near and far,
Not one of these could be his friend,
For his sharp claws could scar...
He prowled along, with stealth, with guile,
His eyes like black night coals.
His hidden hunger would defile
His soul with evil goals.
He didn't pine for fruit or grass
Like other creatures would...
If he saw them, he'd merely pass
For he sought something good.
To him, that meant some meat to eat
And nothing else seemed right...
For this, he'd chase and he'd compete
With courage and with might!
He looked so sleek, so fit, so firm,
So proud and quite supreme...
Yet he must serve this Winter term
A prisoner to his dream...
The creatures feared him night and day...
They hid when he came close...
To him, they were his meat, his prey...
To them, his life he owes...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Snow Cat'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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I Won't Fly
I'm just a little bird
but I've got wings
like the wings
of an eagle.
I can fly high
higher than the clouds
but I won't fly
because I want to walk with you
under the sun
or even under the rain.
I'm just a little bird
but I've got wings
like the wings
of an eagle.
I can fly high
but, I won't fly
and will never spread my wings
as long as I have
...your love.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Flying Tiger (A Poem For Children)
I met a flying tiger,
with flaming, orange wings.
It hunts the flying deer,
and other aerial things.
The tiger is fierce,
powerful and strong.
It swoops through the sky,
it tail is dragged along.
I knew tigers were great jumpers,
but I never saw one fly.
Until I heard a roar above,
then I stared into the sky.
The tiger pirouetted,
it swooped and turned with grace.
It flew so high above the clouds,
it almost went into space!
poem by Jojoba Mansell
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Eagle Watch
The morning came, the eagle stirred, one leap to fly again.
The tourists smiled to watch this bird, the envy of all men.
For who has not at one time slept and sometime in the night,
Believed that if they also leapt, they, too, could rise in flight?
Within one dream, atop a hill, I ran and ran and ran...
And all at once I felt the thrill when my first flight began!
I left the hill, I left the Earth, to glide upon the sky...
It was as if my soul gave birth to something that could fly!
No holding back, I had to hurl myself upon the wave!
Like Superman and Supergirl, I flew as if by faith!
I knew just how the eagle felt, designed for higher things...
A better hand I had been dealt, transforming hands to wings!
Each time I see an eagle soar to heights beyond my eyes,
I realise what dreams are for, to simply mesmerise.
Today, each pilot flies above, content to do his best...
Just like the eagle that I love... God help them to be blessed...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Eagle Watch'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Familiars
In the darkness
They send chills down my spine
The bare descending moon
Has burst into life
Hunting and suffering with prisoned eyes
Familiars play in moonlit skies
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the depths
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the
This ordinary world ain't set in stone as I thought It'd be
Just like haunted prey
Familiars are hunting me
Familiars
The nerves from the creatures
That you receive
Black magic is here
Bow down to it's knees
No emotion, Familiars can grasp
The adrenaline rush takes over so fast
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the depths
Beautiful Wings the servants possess
With claws so sharp they can only be from the
This ordinary world ain't set in stone as I thought It'd be
Just like haunted prey
Familiars are hunting me
Familiars
These blue hearts
They will scream
They will scream
You feel them screaming, mourning in the shadows
They will scream...
* This is a song I wrote in my band, the structure and repetition would make more sense if i sung it to you but I'm quite proud of this one =)
poem by Charlotte Riley
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The King Cobra
The king is on the prowl
It doesn't walk, but crawl
Ordinary prey is not in its mind,
Its hunts only its own kind.
It can grow up to fifteen feet,
Swallows its prey whole and neat
Like a lion hunting wild buffalo and striped zebra
The king hunts rat snakes and speckled cobra.
The king is very reclusive and shy,
But when threatened can stand up and
Look at you, eye to eye,
What a spectacle to watch, o' my
You have to see the king atleast once, before you die
.
7/5/06 rokwd CR V.Aarella
poem by Vikram G. Aarella
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Hi..bird Of The Spring Season, What Is Your Name? [ Part-4 ]
Hi...Bird Of Spring! What Is Your Name?
[ Part-4 ]
O..gliding Songster
That drives away
The crowding worries!
Sail your wings towards me!
O..the huge heap of gold
To a famished soul!
Come near me
Floating on the air!
O..the cool shower of rain
To the withering crops!
Alight on me
With throatful of notes!
O..the fresh fast flood
That breaches its bunds!
Descend on my shoulders
In one single flight!
O..Divine Bird!
I have been here
To swim in your music currents!
Visit this longing heart!
O..the Angel of Melodies!
Land on my heart
Revealing your name
In your sweetest voice!
-S.Chandra Kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Inner Vision for C.R, Clark
All things bright aren’t beautiful.
Sometimes the light can blind your eyes,
so you miss something wonderful
A sight you would be sure to prize.
We sometimes see things blurrily
and that enhances their appeal
A hint of surreality
Which makes your fantasies seem real.
Your vision is not limited
to what you see with earthly eyes.
Imagination flies ahead.
Investigating alien skies.
So dim the lights my friend and dream
Then fantasy can reign supreme.
7-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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An Eagle's Life
An Eagle soars high above,
Skimming seas, lakes and cove,
Piercing, sharp, an Eagle's eye,
Swooping down, did spy,
Swimming trout en route,
Mother Nature's food.
She swooped down and without a doubt,
The majestic eagle has just caught a trout.
With one swipe, her claw did grab,
A fleshy trout, hardly a flap.
Keep A Rhythm
Push out the boat and let us row downriver,
Under bridges and around each curving bend.
Dipping the oars as cleanly as we’re able,
And pulling strongly, to reach our journey’s end.
The currents are quite powerful as we travel,
And concentration has to be intense,
But we will keep a rhythm in the doing,
And on completion, thrills will be immense.
Push out the boat and let us row upriver,
Gliding through the water like a dream.
Such a sight, is this vessel when in motion,
As we together, make our way upstream.
In control, there can be nothing nicer,
Great fulfilment with each stroke that’s plied.
A Sunday afternoon of such sheer pleasure,
When skimming o’er the water, starry-eyed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Trumpets Of Heaven
A silver cry is calling from a height
Leaving the awful pause that follows song,
And through the silence shines a stretching light-
A stretching light that quietly runs along
The path of stars, and pierces cloud on cloud.
Pure things in space across the guiltless sky
Rustle with wings that bear in flight the proud
Revenge of God, with God's intensity.
Among the lighted ways-to move unheard,-
A great-unseen assembly seems to shine
To gather silently in line on line,
And wait and wait for some expected word,
A call on the height! And from the blinding skies
Come white battalions with their blinding eyes.
poem by Leon Gellert
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