Poems Are The Sparrows
Poems are the sparrows,
Swing they branch to branch,
In the green tree of poetry,
They chirp and pick the grain,
Of diction, thoughts, metaphors,
And bring in their beaks,
The straws of meters,
And thorns of realities.
Poems are the Sparrows,
Build their nests place to place,
In the valleys of poetic minds,
To lay and hatch eggs of wisdom,
Awake they early in the morn,
To sing hymn, when gently
Breeze begins to blow, to and fro.
The sparrows chirp in my heart,
And when hiding behind the tassels,
Extend I my hand to them to catch,
They fly away; and when I scatter
The grain, they cluster around me,
To sing the chorus of love and peace,
My restless heart then pours
Them on pages of the book,
And the starving ears become,
Impatient to listen to the honeyed,
Lines of love.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Tree Sparrows
Than their cousins house sparrows they are far more shy
The moment they see you into bushes or trees they do fly
They do look attractive when seen in the sunlight
Though in colouration from the house sparrows the difference does seem slight.
Tree sparrows are birds one doesn't see every day
From human dwellings from their cousins they live further away
For insects and seeds they search on the ground
And in Winter in flocks their numbers abound.
Like house sparrows chirpers they too cannot sing
But than house sparrows more wary of humans which is a good thing
They seem rather restless when humans are near
One might say of them their's is a healthy fear.
In grassy places near bushes and trees them I often do see
But they fly into cover when they notice me
Their cousins compared to them seem rather tame
Tree sparrows for them is an often used name.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The House Sparrows
The house sparrows in Spring under house eaves build their nests of hay
And renowned for their chirping they chirp all the day
In cypress and hedges from predators they hide
Familiar in gardens they are known Worldwide.
Brought to this Land by people from Lands far away
Around human dwellings they are happy to stay
Of shyness and lack of self confidence house sparrows are free
And on their worth or lack of worth some choose to disagree.
Originally from Africa of the weaver family
In gardens and Parklands them one often see
Familiar in their feathers of light gray and brown
They search for crumbs under the park benches in the parks of the Town.
The common house sparrows are birds everyone know
Familiar to gardens and to the hedgerow
Classified as songbirds though they don't have a song
They are famed as chirpers they chirp all day long.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little Child
when you have learned how to climb
the ylang-ylang tree
you finally find the nest of the brown sparrow
and you come to me
bringing four tiny eggs
do you not see two sparrows perched
on a branch?
do you not hear them singing their own
funeral hymn?
sorry, i am out of touch.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What are we? what can we become?
We can be just snails if we want to,
But we can be sparrows too,
We must choose, we cannot just be silent
& undecided
Forever,
If we choose to be snails
Then we will know what we want
We want a river and some palms
To plan our slow travels,
If we choose to be sparrows then
We at least know what to do next,
We shall grow beaks, and wings, and
Soon we need the sharp claws too
To defend ourselves
At least we also know what we need,
Just nests to lay our small eggs,
Twigs of trees to rest upon
Our weary bodies,
We choose what we are
To become what we can be,
We start on that decision, and then
We will see what suits us
To be the best from the rest,
Who still ask
What are we? what can we become?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
66
What are we? what can we become?
We can be just snails if we want to,
But we can be sparrows too,
We must choose, we cannot just be silent
& undecided
Forever,
If we choose to be snails
Then we will know what we want
We want a river and some palms
To plan our slow travels,
If we choose to be sparrows then
We at least know what to do next,
We shall grow beaks, and wings, and
Soon we need the sharp claws too
To defend ourselves
At least we also know what we need,
Just nests to lay our small eggs,
Twigs of trees to rest upon
Our weary bodies,
We choose what we are
To become what we can be,
We start on that decision, and then
We will see what suits us
To be the best from the rest,
Who still ask
What are we? what can we become?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn To Love
If the sky should fall into the sea
And the stars fade all around me
All the times that we have known here
I will sing a hymn to love
We have lived and dreamed we two alone
In a world that's been our very own
With it's memories ever grateful
Just for you I sing a hymn to love
I remember each embrace
The smile that lights your face
And my heart begins to sing
Your eyes have never lied
And my heart begins to sing
And my heart begins to sing
If one day you should ever disappear
Always remember these words
If one day we had to say goodbye
And our love should fade away and die
In my heart you will remain here
And I'II sing a hymn to love
O for love, we live eternally
In the blue we'll roll this harmony
With every day we are in heaven
As for you, I'll sing a hymn to love
Don't you ever worry, dear
And the stars shall fade from the sky
All the times that we have known here
I will sing a hymn to our love
Oh darling,
Just for you I sing
A hymn to love
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A pair of Sparrows on my lovely Lemon Tree
Those were the days
So joyous and carefree
When I could watch the preening of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
Summer days were so short, winters were so long
And for endless hours one could go on a kite flying spree
When I could watch, hopping here and there
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
Enjoying tender sunshine in winter is a past
And chapattis from an earthen hearth a history
When I could watch, assembling of a nest by
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
What seemed to be mundane at that time
Life in my backyard so ordinary
Bliss it is in hindsight, chirping of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
I still sometimes motivate myself
To get off the treadmill and shake the shackles free
But can’t anymore find in my back yard
That pair of sparrows and that lovely lemon tree
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree..
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree.......
30 July 09
poem by Ravi Singh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetic Unity In Soliloquy
In unison our hearts sing
Like poems on a poetic ring
Beauties lineage, passed to we
Through colossal love
and sonorous glee!
My words thy read
With loves piety
And in sync we feed
Poems of flamboyancy
How is it
that exotic hymns
Turn my heart
to virtue
from mortal sins?
Is it that
we listen to loves reed
That our sins absorb
what they need...
So organic like
our sins
our poems
sing in unity…
what is it
that draws me
from you and
you from me?
Is it poetry?
Is it love?
Is it thee?
Can lovers really fight
In the same poems they write?
One of you,
one of me
On one hand
of hearts harmony,
can we fight for
the love of you
and the love of me?
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poem about Poetry - the bird belting out a poem
twilight amusement
the different IQs
that make their way
to my room
dividing the world
in the form of chirp
chirp, chirp, chirp
twitter, twitter, twitter
in so many styles
and tones and syllables,
some extended,
some short broken notings
as diverse as the blooms in the garden
warbling, twittering, twit, tweedling, chirping
chirping, chirp
the singing IQ chart
try, try, try, you never know
how good you are if you never try
the varying quality bird songs
from the large garden tree
each bird's chirp
a humble contribution
from a little creation
each chirp divides the world
at morn, at dusk
what a delight to the ears, mind
simple short noted twitter
long extended mutli-toned varied tweedle
the varying quality poems
those chirpy nature poems
by celebrity birds
the like of sylvia plath,
and proletarian birds
the like of impoverished citizens
of the world
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Sense Of Home.....
the chickens in the backyard
are feeding themselves freely
on the corn grits
the hen are checking her chicks
and enfolds all of them with her wings
under the mango tree
the roosters roost up the tree
settling upon a big branch
it is getting dark and a flock of sparrows
arrive and stop to take their own place
on the coconut palms
they're all home now, and then
the silence begins to hover too inside the room.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Gigolo Lies in Wait
He is hit by the beams of her roving eyes
and swept off to the sky by her sensual looks.
But reach his ears to her groans and longing sighs.
Those who have no feel of love hate the mad guys
who keep open the pages of their hearts' books.
He is hit by the beams of her roving eyes.
The rogues who share the bed where the strumpet lies,
dare to kill the sparrows which chirp by the brooks.
But reach his ears to her groans and longing sighs.
The poofs and ponces who feel no lovers' ties
live in peace undisturbed by the rabbles' hooks.
He is hit by the beams of her roving eyes.
Her orgling glances are her restless heart's spies
who know not the pangs of a bloke, a girl rooks.
But reach his ears to her groans and longing sighs.
When armed men mob to lynch, his heart soars and flies.
Gigabytes of news they get from all the nooks.
But he's hit by the beams of her roving eyes.
And reach his ears to her groans and longing sighs.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Poems
When I sing poems, I sing for me and for me alone. As I read my poems, I see that I have much to perfect in this art. I force rhyme schemes, my rythm goes into off beat tangents, I have more song than substance, incomplete incongruous thoughts, terrible syntax, obscure, almost too obscure meanings but beauty I have and love, and an honest heart. I realize my poems are me, all my inconsistencies, flaws, beauty and love. That's why I sing poems, sing for me and me alone…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
A Pair Of Sparrows!
A pair of twittering sparrows I see;
What a great wonder sparrows are!
Due to constructions of concrete jungles
Sparrows are driven out farther and farther!
So, they take shelter in high way trees;
Even those trees are cut for laying highways
And the sparrows are driven out still far away!
What kind of guys are they who take shelter
Under the trees in summer time but not
Think of pouring even a dropp of water to it?
Extension of concrete jungles destroys trees
And drives away a few sparrows too forever!
Is this called progress in the modern world?
Or is this a harbinger of apocalypse of the whole?
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wild Cat, Domesticated Cat and Sparrows
Hey, elegant cat,
you think you can
rest there sitting so prim and well-brought up
and think I’ll bring you some sparrows I catch
on from the tree-top?
You got to move your butt, brother;
Sparrows don’t fall off trees like ripe fruit
for you to pick from the ground, you know.
Or maybe you don’t know.
And I’m not going to be doing the work
for you, wild cat and friendless as I am.
I live on my own, catch my own sparrows
and eat my own dinner
and lick my lips and I sleep under the shade of the tree
when my tummy’s full
and sure, that’s all I care about
getting my daily meals.
And not even in your wildest dreams, hey well-washed cat,
not even in your wildest dreams
do I have desire to share bird meat and bones with anyone
and especially not with an elegant rich-home cat like you…
Well, you can have the feathers, if you like.
Now really, how did a nice cat like you get lost?
Is this your day out or what?
Some kind of an expedition day?
You want a sparrow to eat?
Get your fat arse here up the tree
with as much stealth as you can
and catch yourself one!
And you stupid cat from comfy rooms
having sat your butt on soft cushions all your life –
stop meow-meowing with hunger! – you’ll scare the birds away,
you unnatural, unnatural domesticated cat!
You know, you’d be better off using your powers of sight
and finding your way back
from wherever you came from and get back
to mummy’s home asap.
Go stand under some lamp post where they might have a
Cuddly Cat Lost sign
and someone might bring you to your owner for a reward.
No way you going to survive in the open, brother!
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prince Of The Sparrows
He was a Prince of the sparrows
Spreading his wings e'er so proud
Dauntless in his flight-yes daring...
At his best, when high in the clouds;
Functioning, yes indeed, functioning-
Far surpassing the Cardinals O' Spring-
He was a Prince of the sparrows
Such sweet Psalms, he would sing;
Climbing, climbing into the heavens...
Soaring into the Firmaments rest-
Yes, he was a Prince of sparrows
At last, he has found, his longed for NEST! ! ! !
December 31,2011
By, Theodora Onken
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sparrow And The Hen
A sparrow, when sparrows like parrots could speak,
Addressed an old hen who could talk like a jay:
Said he, 'It's unjust that we sparrows must seek
Our food, when your family's fed every day.
'Were you like the peacock, that elegant bird,
The sight of whose plumage her master may please,
I then should not wonder that you are preferred
To the yard, where in affluence you live at your ease.
'I affect no great style, am not costly in feathers,
A good honest brown I find most to my liking,
It always looks neat, and is fit for all weathers,
But I think your grey mixture is not very striking.
'We know that the bird from the isles of Canary
Is fed, foreign airs to sing in a fine cage;
But your note from a cackle so seldom does vary,
The fancy of man it cannot much engage.
'My chirp to a song sure approaches much nearer,
Nay the nightingale tells me I sing not amiss;
If voice were in question I ought to be dearer;
But the owl he assures me there's nothing in this.
'Nor is it your proneness to domestication,
For he dwells in man's barn, and I build in man's thatch,
As we say to each other-but, to our vexation,
O'er your safety alone man keeps diligent watch.'
'Have you e'er learned to read?' said the hen to the sparrow,
'No, madam,' he answered, 'I can't say I have.'
'Then that is the reason your sight is so narrow,'
The old hen replied, with a look very grave.
'Mrs. Glasse in a Treatise-I wish you could read-
Our importance has shown, and has proved to us why
Man shields us and feeds us: of us he has need
Even before we are born, even after we die.'
poem by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The poems I love
There are poems that I envy,
poems that I admire and respect,
poems that simply sing to me,
poems that I puzzle over…
but the poems I most love -
they may be jewelled and adorned
with adjectives and adverbs,
similes and metaphors, (but
they must be enlightening, relevant,
making mind and heart to expand
in sheer exhilaration)
or they may be so quietly, humbly carpentered
that they say, I’m simply here to serve you…
but they all say to me with
shining eyes, as if
the world made new in that moment,
‘Yes, I was there!
Join me there! ’
and their ‘there’ is here and now
and as great as the universe
and the heart that yearns.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Interlopers
Two tables along
From two Dutch lovers whispering
And a housemaid pushing a broom,
Three sparrows hoop round a menu.
A flea-bitten dog climbs onto a seat,
Not ordering,
Lolling abundantly.
This is not reciprocal.
I do not perch on sparrow's branch,
Or slouch in the brown dog's kennel.
Moreover,
Not content with
Patronising the eatery,
Even now
Three sparrows are hopping about this page,
The flea-bitten dog is lolling across this poem.
poem by Sheena Blackhall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!