Nest of Love
One night, the rain drizzled,
The thunder trembled window panes,
The lightning fenced,
And the coco in yard its head did lose.
The trunk stood in silence,
As a question mark,
Until the brown birds
Came the top their nest to make.
Sights out my eyes filter:
The birds flutter their wings,
One rounds, and the other
Lowers and cedes,
In the morns wet with vapour,
Until the stir of red open tender beaks.
One even, the west wind
Pushed the trunk down.
Chicks two fell onto the sand,
Just a wriggle, then still in the down.
The birds the sky hovered,
Their shrieks tore the layers of night.
Sleepless, in vain I tried
To learn their art of love so deep and sweet.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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Related quotes
The Obscure Sense Of The Presence Of God
I see how the evening sun lights
the high grass, trees shift in the gentle wind
and small brown birds flit between
outdoor tables as young women
reach for coffee cups
dropp sweet crumbs to the rough sidewalk,
to the birds. Intent on home-work,
office-work, they never look up
to see how the sky
deepens to darker hue;
how day will fade soon
and vermillion night set fire
to the seaward hills.
The west wind will finally drive them in,
and the grateful birds will all fly away.
I see it all.
My old eyes know how this old world works,
how Your love lurks even in the weeds
that grow on the edge of the most
tended garden; hides in the cries of
the grieving mourning dove;
falls like rain in the tender,
moonless night.
poem by Steven Federle
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SONNET: And This is Life!
Two Birds, a male and female met at last;
They found the tree on which to build their nest;
But soon, their little ones came rather fast;
The Birds hadn’t time for love-making or rest!
The Wind blew strongly; scorching was the Sun;
The Rain fell heavily upon their nest;
Rearing the young ones was both strain and fun;
Even a Snake came to their nest as guest1
But God helped them to find the worms for food;
And Spring replaced the Winter’s freezing cold;
The Birds laboured all life as best as could;
Their young ones turned adults; and they grew old!
When Death came like a robber in the night,
Both Birds never offered the slightest fight!
poem by John Celes
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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
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THE BLISS OF MY OWN SILENCE (revised)
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to?
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the another night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Bless Of My Own Silence....
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the same night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Treecreepers
Elusive birds them one don't often see
Treecreepers build their cup shaped nest of bark behind loose bark of tree
From predators concealed and hidden away
And pinkish spotted eggs the female lay.
Shy woodland birds of humans they show respectful fear
They climb tree trunks in search of insects and when human to them venture near
Of the tree trunk they disappear to the other side
Of watchers eyes they'd much prefer to hide.
They will never be renowned as birds of song
Though their familiar chirps one hardly could get wrong
The ornithologists and bird watchers on studying them don't spend much of their time
And they seldom have inspired the poets to rhyme.
From the day they leave the nest until the day they die
From ground up they climb the tree and then to the next tree fly
To climb again in search of invertebrates such things they like to eat
They must have great strength in their tiny feet
In wooded places they like to reside
And from predators their cup shaped nest they hide
Shy little birds when human to them venture near
To the other side of the tree trunk they disappear.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Tweet
He fell from the mango tree nearby
In the nest where three others lay
After the rain, their chirping cry
I heard in the morning at break of day.
A few days old they must have been
Eyes still shut, and such tiny wings
Scarcely with feathers on their skin
But they had a strong will to go on living!
I took the nest and kept it inside
Quite safe in a handy fruit basket
From my cats, the birds I tried to hide
As they heard the noisy chirping racket.
Two of the chicks failed to survive
The rains made them wet in the night
But the other two I had kept alive
Named him 'Tweet' and his brother 'Knight'.
We fed them bread crumbs in a toothpick
The chicks ate the meals, all was alright
But Knight was a bully and not so meek
Renamed him 'Joker' - oh what a sight.
Joker would pound on his brother Tweet
So I had to keep them apart
Everyday their chirping would greet
Good morning to me with all their heart.
Tweet was the only one that remained
For birds do get colds and die
He taught me lessons I had gained
Animals care, without tears they cry.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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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
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Summer's Here
The crackling of the fire,
The howl of the wind against my window,
The chirping birds in the night sky,
Makes me smile, happily,
But the death of the fire,
The wind just softly blowing,
And the silence of the birds in the night sky,
Makes me sad,
Because, winter is ending and summer is beginning.
poem by Sophie Shaw
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My Dream Regarding The Two Beautiful Birds
i
how do you get to
hit two beautiful birds
with a single
stone?
ii
or how to make these two
beautiful birds to get to stay
beside my window sill?
iii
how do i make these two beautiful birds
happier?
shall i make a bird house on a tree
beside my house
and give them grains every morning of the day?
iv
how do i make this dream about two beautiful birds
into a reality? they keep on chirping inside my mind
wanting to be given the realistic form of wings
like some eyebrows
wings flapping just above my eyes
the mountains my cheeks
my mind the skies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Birds Are Not My Epic
When I’ll write an epic for the animals
Particularly birds with their wings and beaks and claws
They’ll make me sick to think of them in the bathroom
When all the intense images I’ll see are them flying
Over and above my head out from the shower faucet
Those weird throbbing like needles on my skins
Are brandishing my mortality to hate the images
I admit of them my number one phobia
I cannot run a writing race overnight with such of them as characters
They can be epic but they cannot be mine
Say if my rationality is purely an excuse
But I am this mortal who does fear
Birds are birds and I cannot undress them
Who has dreads and who has courage?
Birds are not my epic
poem by Chester Maynes
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Sky's Bird
Do you still remember the color of the night,
How endless it seemed to go out to,
So stunning, yet frightnening its beauty was
Like a sky calling the birds, you can't resist its cry.
Another morning rises up,
As another dream falls down,
And even though I know its going to disappear,
I don't want to let go.
It's like the sun and moon,
Always going around and around,
Never meeting up with one another.
The shadow of reality,
Cast this illusion onto my life,
So I don't what's real and what isn't,
Holding on tight, I never plan to let go of my beliefs!
I believe in a night that draws you in,
No matter how hard you fight back,
Even though it may grow tiring,
You'll always run back like the birds do to the sky.
Escaping its grasp is inevitable,
If you resist too much, you might lose yourself,
But even though it was once your home,
You'll always have a place to fly back to like the birds to the sky,
Like the birds, like the birds, do to the sky,
Like the birds like the birds, do to the sky.
poem by Alex McCullough
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If You Go Away
If you go away on this summer day
Then you might as well take the sun away
All the birds that flew in a summer sky
When our love was new and our hearts were high
When the day was young and the night was lo-ong
And the moon stood still for the night birds song
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away
But if you stay I'll make you a day
Like no day has been or will be again
We'll sail on the sun, we'll ride on the rain
We'll talk to the trees and worship the wind
Then if you go-o I'll understand
Leave me just enough love to fill up my hand
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away
If you go away as I know you must
There'll be nothin' left in the world to trust
Just an empty room full of empty space
Like the empty look I see on your face
Can I tell you now as you turn to go
I'll be dying slowly till your next hello
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away
But if you stay, I'll make you a night
Like no night has been or will be again
I'll sail on your smile, I'll ride on your touch
I'll talk to your eyes that I-I love so much
But if you go, I won't cry
For the good's gone from goodbye
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away-ay-ay-ay
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paradise: In A Symbol
Golden-winged, silver-winged,
Winged with flashing flame,
Such a flight of birds I saw,
Birds without a name:
Singing songs in their own tongue
(Song of songs) they came.
One to another calling,
Each answering each,
One to another calling
In their proper speech:
High above my head they wheeled,
Far out of reach.
On wings of flame they went and came
With a cadenced clang,
Their silver wings tinkled,
Their golden wings rang,
The wind it whistled through their wings
Where in Heaven they sang.
They flashed and they darted
Awhile before mine eyes,
Mounting, mounting, mounting still
In haste to scale the skies—
Birds without a nest on earth,
Birds of Paradise.
Where the moon riseth not,
Nor sun seeks the west,
There to sing their glory
Which they sing at rest,
There to sing their love-song
When they sing their best:
Not in any garden
That mortal foot hath trod,
Not in any flowering tree
That springs from earthly sod,
But in the garden where they dwell,
The Paradise of God.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Important Birds
Important findings have been made,
Disorders are realised for the people.
Geese shall sound in the skies
To enlighten a few who listen.
Many times a day, the sounds of birds
Arrive and shake the disorder.
An albatross hurts me further,
An eagle has no home here, but further.
Let importance be the guide not the wind,
For wind is reluctant in the eyes of us.
The sky has abandoned the birds at night,
Or have the birds abandoned the night-sky?
Geese and swans are beautiful birds,
But where are all the seagulls?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Nighttime Birds
Their ways are open
they spread as their wings
they want to be certain
of a warm surrounding
When they fly
through the night as beautiful
nighttime birds
The warm wind picks them up
When they fly
through the night as beautiful
nighttime birds
song performed by by The Gathering from Nighttime Birds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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May Song
BIRDS in the green of my garden
Blackbirds and throstle and wren,
Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring's
And so to your singing again!
Birds in my blossoming orchard,
Chaffinch and goldfinch and lark,
Preen your bright wings, little happy live things;
The May trees grow white in the park!
Birds in the leafy wet woodlands,
Cuckoo and nightingale brown,
Sing to the sound of the rain on green ground--
The rain on green leaves dripping down!
Fresh with the rain of the May-time,
Rich with the promise of June,
Deep in her heart, where the little leaves part,
Love, like a bird, sings in tune!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Wings In The Night
Now in the soft spring midnight
There's rush of wings and whirr,
Birds flying softly, swiftly;
The night's a-flutter, a-stir.
Home by the bitter seas,
They have sped home together.
So glad to be coming home
To the grey hills, the grey weather.
Calling and calling softly
One lights by the window-pane:
The rook, weary with building,
Turns to his sleep again.
Ere ever the moor-hens wake
And the wild duck come in,
The birds are about the house
With a long call and thin.
They have wakened the wood-pigeon
To make her plaintive moan,
The wood-pigeon lamenting
For sorrows not her own.
Oh, they are never birds,
But souls of men on the wind,
Seeking the mother's breast,
The heart that is soft and kind.
Souls of the Irish dead,
Flown from the fields of slaughter,
Home to the mother's arms
Over the wild grey water.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Rain, Rain,
Rain Rain,
above from the sky,
To some you are
drops of love
or dropp of joy
like a perfect boy
You’re a sprinkle of blessing
like salad dressing.
Rain Rain,
Drip, drop, drip, drop,
On the window panes,
Thunder and lightning fills up the sky,
Creating a rock music concert
right outside your locked door,
But be careful,
It might make your head a bit sore.
Rain Rain,
with sun wind, and clouds,
and the seven beautiful colours.
Rain Rain,
It’s a sensation to dry droughts,
and takes out all our doubts,
So let the rain out!
poem by Mikaiila .S.
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Birds On The Wires
Birds on the wires
though I know not your name
are you there to tell me
that spring will soon come?
Birds on the wires
though I know not your name
have you already chosen the tree
where you will make a nest
for your eggs?
Birds on the wires
can you see me from there?
How I wish
I have wings like you
so I can fly high enough
to see from above
the beauty of life
below.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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