The Firetail's Nest
'Tweet' pipes the robin as the cat creeps by
Her nestling young that in the elderns lie,
And then the bluecap tootles in its glee,
Picking the flies from orchard apple tree,
And 'pink' the chaffinch cries its well-known strain,
Urging its kind to utter 'pink' again,
While in a quiet mood hedgesparrows try
An inward stir of shadowed melody.
Around the rotten tree the firetail mourns
As the old hedger to his toil returns,
Chopping the grain to stop the gap close by
The hole where her blue eggs in safety lie.
Of everything that stirs she dreameth wrong
And pipes her 'tweet tut' fears the whole day long.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Rockin Robin
He rocks in the tree tops all day long
Hoppin and a-boppin and singing his song
All the little birdies on jaybird street
Love to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet
Chorus :
Rockin robin, rock rock
Rockin robin
Blow rockin robin
cause were really gonna rock tonight
Every little swallow, every chick-a-dee
Every little bird in the tall oak tree
The wise old owl, the big black crow
Flappin their wings singing go bird go
Chorus
Pretty little raven at the bird-band stand
Told them how to do the bob and it was grand
They started going steady and bless my soul
He out-bopped the buzzard and the oriol
He rocks in the tree tops all day long
Hoppin and a-boppin and singing his song
All the little birdies on jaybird street
Love to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet
Chorus
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rockin Robin
(thomas)
Twiddley dee, twiddley diddley dee
Twiddley dee, twiddley diddley dee
Twiddley dee, twiddley diddley dee
Tweet, tweet, twiddley de
He rocks in the treetops all the day long
Hoppin and a-boppin and a-singing this song
Every little bird, every little bee
Loves to hear the robin go tweet-tweet-tweet
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Yeah go rockin robin, really gonna rock tonight
Every little swallow, every chick-a-dee
Every little bird in the old oak tree
Wise old owl, big black crow
Put out their wings singing go bird go
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Yeah go rockin robin, really gonna rock tonight
The chief bird standing at the birdbath stand
Taught him how to do the bop and it was grand
Start goin steady and bless my soul,
He out-bopped the buzzard and the oriole
He rocks in the treetops all the day long
Hoppin and a-boppin and a-singing this song
Every little bird, every little bee
Loves to hear the robin go tweet-tweet-tweet
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Yeah go rockin robin, really gonna rock tonight
Break
The chief bird standing at the birdbath stand
Taught him how to do the bop and it was grand
Start goin steady and bless my soul,
He out-bopped the buzzard and the oriole
He rocks in the treetops all the day long
Hoppin and a-boppin and a-singing this song
Every little bird, every little bee
Loves to hear the robin go tweet-tweet-tweet
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Rockin robin, tweet, twiddley dee
Yeah go rockin robin, really gonna rock tonight
Twiddley dee, twiddley diddley dee
Twiddley dee, twiddley diddley dee
Twiddley dee, twiddley diddley dee
Tweet, tweet, twiddley de
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Billy The Mongolian Whistler
Billy the Mongolian whistler
came to England in 1963.
His whistling was so outstanding,
they put him up a tree.
Now Billy had a bird phobia
especially when they went tweet.
So putting him up a tree was thoughtless
if his phobia he had to beat.
As the first daylight was breaking
and the birds began to tweet.
Billy the Mongolian whistler
instead of whistling began to tweet.
Billy was so embarrassed,
down from the tree he came
and Billy the Mongolian whistler
has never been the same again.
A psychiatrist was called in for Billy,
to see if they could put him right.
But he had returned to the desert
where there isn’t a bird in sight.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink Pink
pink pink
Confirmed that it was armed
pink pink
Was right to be alarmed
pink pink
Ensured that nought was harmed
pnk pink
Steady hand and mind
pink pink
Micro-chip designed
pink pink
The password was declined
pink pink
Another course to take
pink pink
Caution not to shake
pink pink
Captivity a mistake
pink pink
Beads upon the brow
pink pink
Experience the how
pink pink
No chance to turn back now
pink pink
Be certain not to slip
pink pink
One last wire to snip
pink pink
Two hearts that skip a beat
penk penk
The sound that gives a lift
penk penk
Time to collect the gift
penk penk
The robbery will be swift
poem by Chris Dawson
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A man with a pink umbrella
Pink day
Pink hedge
Pink porch
Pink balcony
Pink woman
Pink ghost on a pink road!
Pink door
Pink hello
Pink dream
Pink sparrow
Pink night
poem by Framarz Bagheri
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The 'tweet Tweet' Call Of Drongo
the 'tweet tweet' call
&
the 'tweet tweet' call 'in pairs'
from the sweet throat
of the split-tailed black dra[o]ngo
in bold postures on slender branches
matches the whispering calls
of a love in tender dreams
on a moon-flooded night!
what an aquiline shape
with a lengthy forking tail
god has blessed this bird with!
a pleasing feast for eyes
as it unfolds and tucks in
its graceful wings fanning designs
in short, sudden and swift flights
composure calm and bearing elegant
intermittent notes in melody soaked,
piped through the honeyed throat,
a beauty carved out of a glossy black!
o how many are your modulations,
each one competing with the rest
in flooding my heart and soul
in every musical excellence!
you have become my inseparable companion
amidst all morning glories!
and the music and melody of my life!
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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The Laws Of Nature
In the lonely wood of Clara orange breast robin pipes his song
A warning to all Clara robins 'that this here space to me belong'
And neighbour cock robin listen and the message is understood
Of old cocky himself master at the corner of the wood.
Every morning of the Spring time from branch of tall larch tree
He utter forth a warning in a song like melody
As if to say 'hey neighbour robin stay clear of my boundary'
For if you venture across my border blood will be spilt needlessly.
Even in the wilds of the wild kingdom all creatures are not wholly free
Some are bound by law of Nature to stay in one territory
And like us mortal humans they fall out and disagree
And they wage war on each other and for the loser it's die or flee.
In the lonely wood of Clara on this bright morning in May
Orange breast robin pipes his warning 'keep away oh keep away'
Keep away ye other robins from my wife and family
Dare ye venture across my border this acre belong to me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A wold made of pink
It's just a new obsession
A color which makes me go insane
Pink is not any kind of fiction
Pink always helps me gain
Faith, confidence and everything I need
Trust, joy and a bit of laughter
This color helps me succeed
Pink is the color of my eyes
Only when I look at you
Pink makes me an angel in disguise
It's the color which brings joy to me and my crew
Pink is a color so mighty, so great
Pink is the color my face
Turns when I'm late
Pink is the color which nothing can replace
It's the color which I can't stop thinking of
Neither day nor night
Pink symbolizes my love
Pink is the color of the light
Which shines in my heart for you
It's the color of a wonderland
This color shouldn't be withdrew
It's the color of my imaginary sand
Pink is the color my cat wants to be
Pink is the color of the sun which shines
Pink is the color the world can see
Pink is the color which gives me signs
poem by Mia Peterson
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Pink
A blush of pink:
She'd caught a roving eye -
He gave a wink.
Her smile had played a shy
And quaint florescence;
The siren of pubescence
Drew him in.
She bade him touch her hair,
Suggesting that he dare
To kiss her pulsing lips!
E'er the fool a man, he did:
The drips of blood began to cheer -
And so, another rid:
Tips of fangs are sharp, you know -
Dancing ivory feeds her soul -
See her claim a howl upon a chilling wind!
Slain, he lay across a crimson floor:
She grinned in her repletion.
A blush of pink;
Beneath a glowering sky
Her savoured drink
Was done.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink
Pink handkerchief
'Pink' username
Pink bag
Pink eyeglasses
Pink earrings
A girl in all-pink walking
A girl in all-pink talking
A girl in all-pink eating
A girl in all-pink hurting
A girl in all-pink crying
But a girl in all-pink, dazzling
A boy in a pink t-shirt, bedazzled
by a girl in all-pink
A girl with a Pink Soul.
poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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401
this summer she wears her pink kimono
and she will walk under the pink blossoms of the pink sakura
she will carry a pink umbrella
and she will cross the pink bridge of kokoma
pink leaves on her feet
pink fingernails on her pink wooden shoes
in honor of her love
that never bloomed to complete red
she will sit on a pink bench
praying for pink clouds to drift
on the pink skies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pink Pussycat
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pink pussycat
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pink pussycat
Where are you
Pink pussycat
Im looking for you
Pink pussycat
Meow meow meow
Pink pussycat
Where ya hiding puss
Pink pussycat
Im coming after you
Im gonna mix yer meow-meows
Pink pussycat
Got you in the car
Pink pussycat
Got you in the backseat
Pink pussycat
I wanna touch yer fur
Pink pussycat
Im gonna see you dance
Pink pussycat
Im gonna stand yer fur on end
Pink pussycat
Sleep inside you
Pink pussycat
Lick you clean
Pink pussycat
Gonna mess you up
Pink pussycat
Im a dog
Pink pussycat
Bow wow wow
Pink pussycat
Gonna chase you
Pink pussycat
Gonna catch you
Pink pussycat
Gonna bite you
Pink pussycat
Tear yer little ears off
Pink pussycat
Meow meow meow
Pink pussycat
Im so stroft
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Lovely Rose Of The Fall
Her pink petals lay on the short grass beside the red brick garden wall
By the thorny mother that bore her the last lovely rose of the Fall
White butterflies flit in the garden in the warm sunshine of mid day
And the shrike thrush he pipes on a low branch in his cloak of light brown to gray,
The rose tree has lost her last and her finest daughter next year new roses she will bear
And the rose tree in her flowers does look lovely than her there is none quite so fair
And her flowers they must return to Nature and on Nature's bosom decay
And the rose tree herself sooner or later must return to Nature one day,
The dark willy wagtail he sits on the brick wall his long black tail he wags to and fro
For him 'tis a very good Season on butterlies fat he does grow
Each life form serves a purpose in Nature for one to live one has to die
And what comes from Nature goes back to Nature and the same goes for you and for i
The pink rose petals lay on the grass by their mother on this warm March day in the Fall
And of all of the flowers in the garden in bloom she was the fairest of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Old Apple-Tree
THERE's a memory keeps a-runnin'
Through my weary head to-night,
An' I see a picture dancin'
In the fire-flames' ruddy-light;
'Tis the picture of an orchard
Wrapped in autumn's purple haze,
With the tender light about it
That I loved in other days.
An' a-standin' in a corner
Once again I seem to see
The verdant leaves an' branches
Of an old apple-tree.
You perhaps would call it ugly,
An' I don't know but it's so,
When you look the tree all over
Unadorned by memory's glow;
For its boughs are gnarled an' crooked,
An' its leaves are gettin' thin,
An' the apples of its bearin'
Wouldn't fill so large a bin
As they used to. But I tell you,
When it comes to pleasin' me,
It's the dearest in the orchard, —
Is that old apple-tree.
I would hide within its shelter,
Settlin' in some cosy nook,
Where no calls nor threats could stir me
From the pages o' my book.
Oh, that quiet, sweet seclusion
In its fulness passeth words!
It was deeper than the deepest
That my sanctum now affords.
Why, the jaybirds an' the robins,
They was hand in glove with me,
As they winked at me 'an warbled
In that old apple-tree.
It was on its sturdy branches
That in summers long ago
I would tie my swing an' dangle
In contentment to an' fro,
Idly dreaming' childish fancies,
Buildin' castles in the air,
Makin' o' myself a hero
Of romances rich an' rare.
I kin shet my eyes an' see it
Jest as plain as plain kin be,
That same old swing a-danglin'
To the old apple-tree.
There's a rustic seat beneath it
That I never kin forget.
It's the place where me an' Hallie —
Little sweetheart — used to set,
When we'd wander to the orchard
So's no listenin' ones could hear
As I whispered sugared nonsense
Into her little willin' ear.
Now my gray old wife is Hallie,
An' I'm grayer still than she,
But I'll not forget our courtin'
'Neath the old apple-tree,
Life for us ain't all been summer,
But I guess we've had our share
Of its flittin' joys an' pleasures,
An' a sprinklin' of its care.
Oft the skies have smiled upon us;
Then again we've seen 'em frown,
Though our load was ne'er so heavy
That we longed to lay it down.
But when death does come a-callin',
This my last request shall be, —
That they'll bury me an' Hallie
'Neath the old apple-tree.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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December Sunset
The pink-blue sky
With the grey-blue buildings
And windows all in pink
With the jet-streams flying
The pink becomes blue,
Becomes grey,
While our eye forms abstract designs
In the cold.
And the charcoal streets
With their white-blue lamps
To cancel out
The god-given darkness.
And finally, to the stillness of the night
We close our eyes
And dream of other worlds.
poem by Fred Babbin
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Pink Life
Pink flowers
Pink pens
What about a pink life
Pink stars
Pink trees
What a pink life that would be
Pink shoes
Pink dresses
That is the pink fashion life for me!
poem by Claudia Wilson
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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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A Song
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear;
There is ever a something sings alway:
There's the song of the lark when the skies are clear,
And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray.
The sunshine showers across the grain,
And the bluebird trills in the orchard tree;
And in and out, when the eaves dip rain,
The swallows are twittering ceaselessly.
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
Be the skies above or dark or fair,
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear--
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear
There is ever a song somewhere!
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
In the midnight black, or the mid-day blue:
The robin pipes when the sun is here,
And the cricket chirrups the whole night through.
The buds may blow, and the fruit may grow,
And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sear;
But whether the sun, or the rain, or the snow,
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear.
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
Be the skies above or dark or fair,
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear--
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear--
There is ever a song somewhere!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Pink Coat
The pink coat
She put on when it was cold
The pink coat
That was hung up when she was home
The pink coat
That kept her warm
The pink coat
That witnessed her first cut
The pink coat
She wore when she was crying
The pink coat
That knew her plans
The pink coat
That saw what happened
The pink coat
She had on when she walked in front of that truck
The pink coat
That witnessed it all
The pink coat
Had no one to keep warm, now
The pink coat
That wanted to tell everyone the truth about her
Just;
The pink coat
poem by Alyssa Ray
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Pink
The Pink butterfly
looking like pink shirts,
My pink thoughts
looking like mom's skirt
My inner soul
has a pink ink
love is pink
from the cry of a baby in the sink
pink is nice
I love it to savory perfection
Pink is a man's color
I make it my selection
Pink is the star
that is iridescent
its a half moon
called a crescent
-Pink-
Christian Alexander Williams
poem by Christian Williams
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