Spread Like Lilies
come little sparrows
hop about all freely
under my laid tables
daily feast upon crumbs
of this our heavenly
daily bread spread like lilies
of God’s harvest fields
sparrows do not spin or weave
freely feast enjoy stay believe.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sparrows Self-Domesticated In Trinity College, Cambridge
None ever shared the social feast,
Or as an inmate or a guest,
Beneath the celebrated dome
Where once Sir Isaac had his home,
Who saw not (and with some delight
Perhaps he view’d the novel sight)
How numerous, at the tables there,
The sparrows beg their daily fare.
For there, in every nook and cell
Where such a family may dwell,
Sure as the vernal season comes
Their nest they weave in hope of crumbs,
Which kindly given, may serve with food
Convenient their unfeather’d brood;
And oft as with its summons clear
The warning bell salutes their ear,
Sagacious listeners to the sound,
They flock from all the fields around;
To reach the hospitable hall,
None more attentive to the call.
Arrived, the pensionary band,
Hopping and chirping, close at hand,
Solicit what they soon receive:
The sprinkled, plenteous donative.
Thus is a multitude, though large,
Supported at a trivial charge;
A single doit would overpay
The expenditure of every day,
And who can grudge so small a grace
To suppliants, natives of the place.
poem by William Cowper
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The Rook And The Sparrows
A little boy with crumbs of bread
Many a hungry sparrow fed.
It was a child of little sense,
Who this kind bounty did dispense;
For suddenly it was withdrawn,
And all the birds were left forlorn,
In a hard time of frost and snow,
Not knowing where for food to go.
He would no longer give them bread,
Because he had observed (he said)
That sometimes to the window came
A great black bird, a rook by name,
And took away a small bird's share.
So foolish Henry did not care
What became of the great rook,
That from the little sparrows took,
Now and then, as 'twere by stealth,
A part of their abundant wealth;
Nor ever more would feed his sparrows.
Thus ignorance a kind heart narrows.
I wish I had been there, I would
Have told the child, rooks live by food
In the same way that sparrows do.
I also would have told him too,
Birds act by instinct, and ne'er can
Attain the rectitude of man.
Nay that even, when distress
Does on poor human nature press,
We need not be too strict in seeing
The failings of a fellow being.
poem by Charles Lamb
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As God Gave Freely
As God gave freely unto me
gifts of compassion love patience time
so I also give freely unto you
in the fertile landscapes of harvest mind
have I not prepared fields broken ground
have I not sown in full measure love seed
will you now take ownership of these fields?
will you water fertilize tender growth shoots?
will you weed harvest all life love gift fields?
for 18 months more have I alone toiled prepared?
are not these fields without cost to you purchased?
did I not give sacred work all my time livelihood?
will you choose to help harvest these compassion seeds?
will you let peace love flower with purity in your minds?
will you turn swords into plough shears till peace fields?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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
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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
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Our Daily Bread
"Give me my daily bread.
It seems so odd,
When all is done and said,
This plea to God.
To pray for cake might be
The thing to do;
But bread, it seems to me,
Is just our due.
"Give me my daily toil,"
I ought to say -
(If from life's cursed coil
I'd time to pray.)
Give me my daily sweat,
My body sore,
So that bread I may get
To toil for more.
"Give me my daily breath,"
Through half a sob,
Until untimely death
Shall end my job.
A crust for my award,
I cry in dread:
"Grant unto me. Oh Lord,
My daily bread!"
poem by Robert William Service
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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
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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
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Homegrown
If I was an unknown...
Would I be a better habit?
If you could not cast your eyes upon me,
Would you care to not freely,
Daily let me 'have it'?
I would walk about,
Without your 'penetrating' burn!
You could save those actions made,
For someone else you've chosen to earn.
And if you had not known my views,
Or my philosophy that's kept.
You would not think of me publicly,
In terms to belittle to spew words of disrespect!
Why bother taking time for that?
Your eyes may roll...
But you and I have never met!
If I was an unknown...
Would I be a better habit?
If you could not cast your eyes upon me,
Would you care to not freely,
Daily let me 'have it'?
Or are those signs of implied affection?
And in my 'imperfections' stated...
I've misunderstood your comments!
And I've should have dispelled...
Your loud obnoxious yells,
As a way of showing me you are actually elated! ?
I had not known!
Since like you...
I am also homegrown!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poets
we always busy
to weave another sky
you can fly freely
we never expect
your garland
the dollars heavy
on your gravity
your clumsy thoughts
burdened with rat-race
senseless fight
to exhibit you great
we always busy
to spread your lampshade
into infinity
never we die
with any failure
or live we to die
with every success
our words put every brush
to ornament that sky
where you can fly
freely
Pranab k c
15/08/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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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
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Sparrows too go unspared
We gallop in development
Minding not what we leave behind
We vow to protect environment
We observe World Environment Day
We launch Project Tigers
We pledge to ensure survival of wild life
All these go to indicate
That our activities are going to have
Negative impact on other living systems
We have come to talk about sparrows now
And celebrate, nay we should observe,
World Sparrows Day on 20 March
These tiny brisk little ones
Are nice to watch
And they nowhere compete with you
As their share on our resources
Is negligible
We did not even spare them
An earlier report says
These cute ones
Have practically vanished
From cities
Where it is ensured that
Everyone is in a communication network
Through tall microwave towers
Erected over all possible locations
These communicating waves
Are fine for men and women
But threaten the very existence of sparrows
We feel now that we need to protect them
But how can we do that
With those towers emanating
Dangerous life-threatening microwaves
That have telling effect
On the survival of sparrows
If we are really serious about sparrows
Either these communication networks
Are to be disbanded
Or a separate micro-wave-free
Sparrows' world is to be created
We really need to re-examine
Our ways of communication
If we seriously long to hear
The chirps of Sparrows again
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Ten Percent Gospel or Malachi Syndrome
Tithe, Tithe, Tithe!
Your money give to God
Tithe, Tithe, Tithe!
Will your God you rob?
Mix LAW and FAITH together
And set a precedent,
Mix LAW and FAITH together
But start at ten percent!
For me to tithe? it's not of faith
It's like - not eating ham,
For me to tithe? it's not of faith
Don't make the gospel a sham!
Give Freely, Freely, Freely
For, in the Christ you are made alive,
Give Freely, Freely, Freely
And make His ROOD your tithe! ! !
'Freely you have received, freely give.'
Matthew 10: 7-16; Acts 4: 36,37
(The tithe in Malachi was food, somewhere along the line it's been changed to money, most likely
by 'money hungry' pastors who see themselves a as type of Levitical Priesthood, and live like
parasites off the sheep, the 34th of Ezekiel says it all.)
poem by Richard Merrell
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Freely enjoy life
Freely enjoy life
Death is no more
Your partner.
Freely enjoy life
Sucess with peace
Is yours only.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Lord let it be so inspired by the Holy Bible
Lord let it be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
if Despair be our Our daily bread
No Lord let not be so
Examine me my Lord
And know my mind
Keep me on good ways to go
And Lord let it be so
Set me free from distress
Make me good and strong
For sinful gains i must long
No Lord let not be so
Lord listen to my call of help
And be always at my side
Be with me when i need you
And Lord let it be so
O'Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily bread
Lord let not be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily
Lord let not be so
And let it be so
Set me free from distress
Make me good and strong
For sinful gains i must long
No Lord let not be so
Lord listen to my call of help
And be always at my side
Be with me when i need you
And let it be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily bread
Let not be so
poem by Rehanayakoob Yakoob
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A Fine Feast
food prepared served upon the table
a feast for all to freely partake of
or abstain from as it suits your will
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Feast To Eat And Enjoy
Feast!
So delicious are these offerings,
For only you prepared.
Feast and eat.
Until your heart is contented.
Relax.
And take the weight off your feet.
Unbridled and free,
From each and every discourse presented.
Whether disguised in debated argument or not,
To undermine your dining done.
With purposes to have that stopped.
Feast!
So delicious are these offerings,
For only you prepared.
Be daring and selective,
As it is your wish to nourish...
Upon that which feeds your encouragement.
Feast to eat and enjoy.
Nothing tasted to you presented,
Has been created to disappoint, displease...
Or leave you to become agitated or annoyed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet On Hearing The Dies Irae Sung In The Sistine Chapel
Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring,
Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove,
Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love
Than terrors of red flame and thundering.
The hillside vines dear memories of Thee bring:
A bird at evening flying to its nest
Tells me of One who had no place of rest:
I think it is of Thee the sparrows sing.
Come rather on some autumn afternoon,
When red and brown are burnished on the leaves,
And the fields echo to the gleaner's song,
Come when the splendid fulness of the moon
Looks down upon the rows of golden sheaves,
And reap Thy harvest: we have waited long.
poem by Oscar Wilde
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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
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The Arrival Of The Sparrows
at first glance they look like stones raining
on the fields
my surprise is immense
i am stunned
when i get near
ah, these are the small brown sparrows
from faraway
landing on the
rice-fields of the fields of hay
the village sings again!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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