En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Blue Bird

Little blue bird
Sitting on a perch
Making noise for a boy
Found a mate
Flies away
Leaving the nest
Goodbye Blue bird

poem by Marissa Ford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Of Syntax

A poet and his bird, his dog, his cat and his tree
A poet and the bird in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree and the wind and the cloud
The bird in the tree, the dog in the tree, the cat in the tree,
The bird in the tree, the dog on the tree, the cat under the tree,
The bird on the tree, the bird in a tree, a bird in a tree, a bird in the tree,
And the wind and the cloud and the poet and his dog and his cat and the tree

The dog chases the cat the cat chases the bird
And they all arrive in that tree
Where the poet is sitting under that tree
The poet takes the dog and the cat was envious
And the bird looks at them in silence
The silence looks at the poet in the eye
Of the cat and the bird flies away
The poet and the dog is the poem of friendship
The cat and the dog is the poem of the endless natural quarrels
And the bird that flies away against the cat and the dog and the poet and the tree
And flies against the wind that the bird is now fighting
And the clouds that seem so blue and blue

The bird that actually flies away
Is actually me
I was not the poet with the dog

I am not the tree I am not the wind I am not the cloud I am not the poet there who had a dog as friend and I was not the quarrelsome thing from the blue and out of the blue

I am the bird with wings and I always fly away to places
Against the wind to places where I can be as always be the bird with wings in silence

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Eggs Of The Blue Bird On The Nest

the blue bird
takes care of its nest
all the white eggs
warm beneath its feathers

all those nights
and even cold days

and then when the eggs hatch
the fledgelings
prematurely spread their wings
fall off from the branch
where the nest hangs

on the following morning
you see the ants feasting on their flesh

ah! the blue bird sings again
readies itself for the rain

it escapes away from its sorrows
and flies away...far, far away

far, far away....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Blue Bird...

THERE is a blue bird
nesting inside my belly
there are butterflies in
there too,

THERE is nothing that
comes out from my belly
there is nothing that
flutters in there
nothing flies away
there is nothing
that comes out from
my mouth

THERE is only a blue bird
in my belly
the butterflies do not
last
only the blue bird
yes
this blue bird
this silence

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird On A Wire

Bird on a wire, up there much higher
than the poeple on the ground.
Do you observe all those you see
or stay intent on what you've found?

That sitting on a wire is just a good perch
that provides you a place to rest.
You may be joined by others of your kind
and that can't happen in a nest.

Bird on a wire, such a good flier,
it amazes me how you land.
You travel from wire to wire as if
you are making a stand
saying

'This is my place. Yours is below
and you may look up to me.
You would not trade places. Neither would I
for it's dangerous up here you see.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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I want to fly!

yes, you do.
where do you want to go?
i am looking for a new home

how does one grow wings?
i want to fly...

it is the most quiet conversation.
the man begs to understand
why the mouth he is blest with does not take the shape of a beak.

the bird sings of many lands
the man has not yet been to

the little brown bird's heart is a ray of sun
but the man does not know

inside the wars are all in the making
outside it is still calm

the bird and the man kiss
the bird flies
the man falls asleep
the man flies
the bird is dead.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Little Bird

John d loudermilk
Theres a little bird that somebody sends
Down to the earth to live on the wind.
Born on the wind and he sleeps on the wind
This little bird that somebody sends.
Hes light and fragile and feathered sky blue,
So thin and graceful the sun shines through.
This little bird who lives on the wind,
This little bird that somebody sends.
He flies so high up in the sky
Out of reach of human eye.
And the only time that he touches the ground
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird dies.

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Bird Song

Theres a little bird
Somebody sent down to earth
To live along the wind
Blowing on the wind
And she sleeps on the wind
This little bird, somebody sent
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
She flies so high up in the sky
Way out of reach of human eyes
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
She flies so high up in the sky
Way out of reach of human eyes
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
And the only time that she touches ground
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird dies

song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quail's Nest

I wandered out one rainy day
And heard a bird with merry joys
Cry 'wet my foot' for half the way;
I stood and wondered at the noise,

When from my foot a bird did flee--
The rain flew bouncing from her breast
I wondered what the bird could be,
And almost trampled on her nest.

The nest was full of eggs and round--
I met a shepherd in the vales,
And stood to tell him what I found.
He knew and said it was a quail's,

For he himself the nest had found,
Among the wheat and on the green,
When going on his daily round,
With eggs as many as fifteen.

Among the stranger birds they feed,
Their summer flight is short and low;
There's very few know where they breed,
And scarcely any where they go.

poem by John Clare
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Birds Nest

Have you not seen the bird
flying far, again and again
collecting straws to weave a nest-
a home- for its young ones to be.
As eggs are hatched
out come the young
chirping or crying, to be fed,
the bird flies again, and again
collecting grains
to feed the young
who cannot fly
It chews the grain but does not swallow
beak to beak it feeds young fellow
caressingly and lovingly
so all are fed properly.
Young get wings, by and by:
and coaxed by the mother bird;
attempt to fly.
Then suddenly one day
the young one flies far away
It knows not where: and
The nest gets barren,
Lonely...
The bird DOES NOT GRIEVE
OR DOES IT
We humans, we do not know.

poem by Om Chawla
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Unforgiving Love

one day a blue bird fell in love with a white rose..the rose was envious of everybod falling in love and was afraid that she will get hurt..the blue bird told her that he had loved her from afar but was too scared to tell the white rose how much he actaully did...the white rose told the bird when my petals turn from white to red i will fall in love with you back....the blue bird came by and by everyday and told the white rose how much he loved her...until one day the blue bird cut his wings and soaked the white rose with his blood...the white rose's petals turned from white to a luscious red and she realized how much the blue bird loved her..but it was too late the blue bird fell in front of the rose and the rose was red forever..that's why roses are giving to the ones we loved

poem by Ariff Khan
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Little Blue Bird And The Old Man Under The Tree

and the old man with a sigh murmurs upon himself

'little bird, little bird,
how sweet is your song
how i wish i can listen
some more time'

and the little blue bird high on the tree stops to sing
and looks at the old man with pity
tweeting

'my dear old man
would you like to be a little blue bird some other time? '

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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L'oiseau bleu

The lake lay blue below the hill.
O'er it, as I looked, there flew
Across the waters, cold and still,
A bird whose wings were palest blue.

The sky above was blue at last,
The sky beneath me blue in blue.
A moment, ere the bird had passed,
It caught his image as he flew.

poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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A Mountain Climbing Echo

Flashlights landmarks
Sunlight yellow
Snow white feet frozen
In purity of the dead silence

A bird will perch
From the pines
Nothing else will happen

A mountain climbing echo
Wing-like beats dug in the sky
Closing down
Blue cloud breath broken
Ends the day in a flake
So easy to die and melt

A bird will perch
From the pines
Nothing else will happen

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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My Baby Bird

Is it true birds fly south for the winter
Wish i was a bird for just one day
I would fly to and perch on your window
My baby bird flew away
I love you my baby bird
But i had to set you free
I watched you glide with the wind high above the trees
Maybe i could be a boat and sail to your shore
I miss my baby bird
So next winter i will move south
I will look for you in the sky
You are no longer a baby bird as you have grown
Do you now have baby birds of your own
I long to see you again my baby bird my best friend
I wish i was a bird for just one day
I would sore sore so high
Wishing is all i can do for now
How is my baby bird
Do you miss me for i miss you
Bye my baby but not goodbye

poem by GJC boyle
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Tonight Tonight

tonight i am a tree filled with leaves
and you are the bird looking for a nest
i have my branches for you to perch
to rest and stay for the whole night
agains the cold and damp and dark

sleep little bird, feel my loneliness

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Lonely Bird On The Electric Wire

this afternoon i take a walk leading to the farm
it is harvest time
and i see the harvesters cutting the rice stalks filled with golden grains
they would group what they gather at a certain place
mounds and mounds of rice grains this time of a bumper year

on the other side are carabaos grazing
lots of grass to graze adding the recently cut rice stalks

i look at the clouds white and blue and shades of both
my attention is however caught by a single bird perched on the electrical wire connecting two poles about 30 meters apart

it is alone there
and i move closely to see whether it is really a bird

indeed it is one of the sparrows in the ricefield
but so unlike the rest it
it is sitting there alone.

our eyes met.

and i tell my wife about this lonely bird.

she says i am just making a metaphor

i sit alone in my garden now after dining

and i wonder if the bird flew back to its nest or to some territory of its own
where their species also live
and i wonder if the bird must be also telling the other birds that it saw
a man walking alone on that path leading to the farm
and unlike other men he prefers to walk alone
and i also think that perhaps the bird would also take issue about the fact that indeed

our eyes met

and i know the other birds would say
that it is nothing but also a sort of metaphor and to the least that

it is nothing but a kind of fable.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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By the Woods one day

By the woods one day i walked,
until i saw the blue bird making his noise,
in a way that he speaks to us, so wisely,
birds are so into their way, why can't man,
do th same in his ways, so into this world

wrote 11-20-06

poem by Jim Foulk
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To a Sleeping Child

Lips, lips, open!
Up comes a little bird that lives inside
Up comes a little bird, and peeps, and out he flies.

All the day he sits inside, and sometimes he sings,
Up he comes, and out he goes at night to spread his wings.

Little bird, little bird, whither will you go?
Round about the world, while nobody can know.

Little bird, little bird, whither do you flee?
Far away around the world, while nobody can see.

Little bird, little bird, how long will you roam?
All round the world and around again home;

Round the round world, and back through the air,
When the morning comes, the little bird is there.

Back comes the little bird and looks and in he flies,
Up wakes the little boy, and opens both his eyes.

Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird’s away,
Little bird will come again, by the peep of day;

Sleep, little boy, the little bird must go
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Sleep, sleep sound, little bird goes round,
Round and round he goes; sleep, sleep sound.

poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Falcon

Why should my sleepy heart be taught
To whistle mocking-bird replies?
This is another bird you've caught,
Soft-feathered, with a falcon's eyes.

The bird Imagination,
That flies so far, that dies so soon;
Her wings are coloured like the sun,
Her breast is coloured like the moon.

Weave her a chain of silver twist,
And a little hood of scarlet wool,
And let her perch upon your wrist,
And tell her she is beautiful.

poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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Ocean Blue

Well you took me home
And you took me back
But deep down inside
The feeling just died and i
Couldnt see why
From indigo to royal blue
I travel far but no one will do
Anytime, anyplace
Every shape every face
Brings memories of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Fair weather friends might drift away
When summer ends and skies burn grey
So I walk to the ocean
Pilot these shores
Just thinking of you
Its time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now on its strictly blue sky
Come rain and shine
The outlook is still fine
Im thinking of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean ocean
Ocean, ocean
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
I stand at the head of the queue
Theres mutinys every crew
Wishin and wonderin bout you
Ocean blue

song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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