Poem Hunters
'Naseer.'
She gently called my name.
'Should we go for poem hunting? '
She asked.
'My soul is lonely and hungry for your poems.'
She added.
'Yeah! Let us go my love.'
I said.
'I will hunt to your satisfaction.'
I added.
Then we dressed in white and red
A bright coloured silky hats and red coats
And set out for poem hunting
Hand in in hand we reached a green garden
Closed to the pure pool of purest wonders
There we met two little birds
Two colourful birds at the pool-side
One singing, the other listening and dancing
The He-bird sang and sang melodiously
With all the coolness of its dulcet voice
So cool and gentle like the feeling of a summer breeze
We watched them attentively, still hand in hand
Unable to resist the temptation to followed the tunes
The He-bird sang two steps forward
And two steps backward
So beautiful and enchanting that the She-bird collapsed
Slowly like the crash of wet sand
Suddenly the He-bird stop singing
Took his soulmate and lost in the clouds
'It is now your turn my love.'
She tapped me on the shoulder
'Why not sing for me my love? '
'I am hungry, can you start hunting now? '
She begged.
That was when my heartbeats turned music
Beating beautifully that my love couldn't resist
She danced and danced like a proffesional dancer
And my tongue sang out a melodious song from my heart
The rhymths is so enchanting that tears flow freely from her eyes
She suddenly stopped and approached me,
Smiling sweetly she said;
'Naseer, take me I love you....'
¤NTA! !
28/07/14: 21
poem by Naseeru Taneemu Annuree
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Poet's Song
I HID in the world and sang,
And I sang so loud and long
That all the ages rang
With the music of my song.
I sang of the earth and sky,
5
I sang of the whispering seas,
I sang of the mountains high,
And I sang of the flowers and trees;
I sang of the early spring,
I sang of the dawning day,
10
I sang, for I had to sing
As the young lambs have to play;
Till heaven and earth were ringing,
And all the people heard,
And they said, "We love his singing,
15
For his song is the song of the bird."
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I woke up to a lullaby
I woke up to a lullaby
The birds sang a song for me
They sang their hearts out all the while
Dancing on the maple tree
Each bird sang a different song
That melted into one
A song full of promises
For the day that’s just begun
They sang of sorrow
Of happiness and mirth
The sang of marriage
And of birth
They sang of people laughing
And of them crying
They sang of sickness
They sang of dying
This little song
They sang for me
Made me think
Made me free
Little Bird
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
The trout in the shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good
Wheres my pretty bird
He must have flown away
If I keep singing
Hell come back someday
Dawn, birds still gone
Guess Ill go mow the lawn
What a day, what a day
Oooo, what a beautiful day this is
Ooooooooo
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down a sang a song to me
The trout in a shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry about my life
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
Little bird looked down
And sang a songto me
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Singing Bat
A bird was caught inside a trap
which closed its claws with a loud snap.
The snap was heard by Fritz the cat
who had been stalking a young bat.
The bat was hanging from a tree
had wrapped around a twig his knee.
'AHA', the cat now saw the bird
it was a finch, and it occurred
to Fritz the cat that here was food
enough to lift a feline's mood.
He'd eat the bird right in the trap
and afterward take a short nap.
The finch had lifted up his wing
and, full of love, began to sing.
He figured if this day meant death
he'd entertain with his last breath.
The cat was just about to eat
when that sweet voice, now in defeat,
sang, in e-flat the Lorelei
and Fritz the cat began to cry.
And if you know a thing or two
perhaps from visits to the Zoo:
A cat can either eat or cry,
not both. And trapped birds cannot fly.
The bat, who had observed the drama
in upside-down-like panorama,
approached because this tearful issue
required help and Kleenex tissue.
The closest thing to tissue though
is bat-wing skin and if you blow
across the tears toward the wing
a bat will likely start to sing.
And, right away, that's what transpired,
the bat sang loudly. And inspired
the cat to see him as a meal,
complete with musical appeal.
The bat soon sang of Mother Goose,
predictably, tied his own noose.
Was eaten by the hungry cat,
it's Nature's way when cat eats bat.
When Fritzie got up from his nap
he let the finch out of the trap.
The finch who saw a hungry eye
began to sing the Lorelei.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Divine Bird
i would skp the best musical concert
to listen one more time to this morning bird
it makes me regret for not having been
a bird watcher and getting to know the name
of every bird and how every bird makes sure
they shine their best in voice rather than feathers
for feathers are just for a show of form but the
voice how well they have cultivated themselves
with the bountiful freedoms strewn below their wings
it was only two mornings ago, i first heard him
sing in among the many trees lining the boulevard
outside my condominium, the Crescent Court
the enchanting haunting notes of his song shocked
me into wondering whether it was really a bird that
sang those pristine notes, notes that seemed to have
streamed out of the sacred sanctum of God, so many
diverse notes, so well handled, they sounded
like a song written by the Divine for one special bird
one most holy entree to the dawn of a new day
i prayed to the Divine to allow me hear that bird
again, a bird that has sung his way into my my poem,
a bird probably from another realm where birds could
understand the workings of the heavens better than men
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Singing Birds Are Endangered Species!
Singing bird's songs
enjoyed,
wonderful melody, wonderful words,
Rhapsodical Sometimes,
More often romantic!
A power hungry,
another powerful
both listen a while,
They want the bird to sing for them!
Now the bird has to stop singing,
Or should think of flying far away!
Power hungry will kill
or powerful will,
Singing bird ability of throat
Is its own enemy,
Two hands are ready to squeeze,
Two blades ready to cut,
Singing bird's throat often
squeezed,
Several died,
not even found in history,
they fear even that bird's story!
For it sings only truth,
Singing birds throat is cut,
Because it can't keep its mouth shut!
Poor bird! Its talent,
gifted voice became
its own enemy,
Not even they are listed
Though singing birds are endangered species!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green Bird, Golden Bird.
A tired green bird flew a very long journey,
Came to a stop in a beautiful valley.
There were many birds of all colours singing and playing,
Among them he saw a beautiful golden bird,
Her feathers shining in the bright sunshine,
And her voice echoed melodiously.
Within a short time the green and golden birds were close friends,
They knew each other deeply by heart,
Passing the days, flying from valley to valley,
And resting from tree to tree.
Then one sad day, golden bird must return,
She too had flown from across the vast ocean,
Even though it broke the green bird's heart,
But he was willing to let go, and before she left, .. he asked;
Golden bird, have I full-filled my promises to you?
That I would never hurt you,
That I would protect you with my life,
That I would share my provisions with you,
That I would make you happy and smiling always!
Is there any single word to describe all these?
Golden bird,
I will pray for your lasting happiness,
I will never forget your overflowing kindness,
You have nested permanently in my heart…and lastly,
I dream for us to be able to fly together again,
in unimaginable beautiful green heaven!
poem by Desert Life
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Singing Bird, I was!
Bird, singing Bird, I am!
Got trapped myself,
lured by desires and
Effects of my own karma!
I found myself in cage,
Made by my own fate,
who become my master!
But when I started singing,
Praise of my lord, not caring my master,
Softer and softer became
my master's heart!
I started singing for the one who placed me here,
Slowly wiping my eyes,
With my own wings,
singing melodious songs
I was amusing my heart,
And singing became my integral part!
I sang because I saw smile on lips of both,
My master as well as my Lord,
And I sang because it pleaseth all!
Nought I couldn't do more,
Eat, sleep then awake,
Pat my back with my own wings then sit and sing!
I was trying to find way out,
Dashed against nuts and bolts of the Cage,
And broke my wings and legs!
My pain was doubled,
soar multiplied as I tried more and more to get myself free!
Master was laughing at me but he had sympathy,
He took me out and cleansed my wounds with his divine power and told me to cool down and wait and sing than try something great
and great will be the pain,
if act impatient!
I sang to Lord, O! Lord,
Thou hast ears to hear
this painful song!
Come on and free me!
I slept exhausted of weeping Lord came in dream and said,
'Child look, bother not of wing that are mortal,
Look into heart, heart has wings that never fail
Wings that are ever strong,
Even heart can sing when it fly, and even it can fly where air is not, fairies that land!
They call it heaven!
Woke up and saw my cage!
Cage that allow me not,
never it allowed me to fly!
I sat like meditating on God!
Then my mind absorbed in lord,
Body was stiff like a corpse,
Seeing that master opened the cage,
Lord appeared and said,
My child it is now or never!
Suddenly I got out and flew to my Lord, where my master, Karma and his cage have no entry!
I sang to Lord, 'O Lord, I praise you thee,
Thy will be my will!
Thy wish be my wish!
thy mighty will is done,
That saved me, thy love and
Thy mercy showed the path
Thee, is my only savior!
thy merciful hands lifted me! '
AUM, AMEN AMEEN!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rattlesnake's Chant To The Hunting Bird
Hunting birds scream that they should
Have seen the fish in the river,
The girls in the stream; but they have to
Settle for rattlesnake and his tambourine;
He chants hissing,
I will make you see what I have seen,
From my belly along the streams
The girls who are chanting to the sailors
They feed, They will never love you,
Never love you- Strange hungry bird,
Though you might look good in the sun,
From side to side, we will make you hear
What we have heard- The women who desire
Your sense of flight but not your love.
Feed us if you will to your children, but you
Are just not enough that thing- Women shall love neither
Of us, laughing on their school bus- but we
Do not desire them. We gave them their first
Knowledge, their first death, their first reason
To orgasm, and for us that is enough- While you
Are just a bird hunting what it can never hope to kill.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bird
A wounded bird stripped of flight
Upon the ground hopped and sang
A call to help a despairing plea
‘Oh please let belief bring a saviour to me’
It sang so beautifully and so sweet
While cradling its broken wing
The eyes which darted saw so much
To know and behold a world so vast
Then she came as though from nowhere
A girl with the tender touch to heal
Softly she took into her hands
And nursed so gently while she sang
‘Singer of beauty fly once more
Do not cry nor feel afraid
It is the belief you call out to
Which brought my heart to you’
Into a cage the bird was placed
And ate, sang then rested safe
The wing did heal so to fly again
She opened wide the cage
To see the bird fly away into the sky
She smiled and said goodbye
Some things are to be kept
Others are only meant to fly
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What If
(diane warren)
Sometimes I dont understand.
Feels like Im living in a world gone mad.
Look around, all around its just the same.
People just rush everywhere.
No time to ever take the time to care.
Were the ones.
Were the losers in this game.
So where is the tenderness we scarifice for progress.
And where is the love we need.
You know it makes me wonder.
What if everybody, what if everybody reached out with just one hand (reached with just one hand).
What if everybody, what if everybody sang out with just one voice (sang with just one voice).
Maybe we could change things.
What if everybody, what if everybody cared with just one heart (cared with their own heart).
What if everybody, what if everybody tried to light one spark (tried to light one spark).
Maybe we could change things somehow.
Somehow its all up to us.
Gotta take this world, make it a world of love.
Gotta do it now.
Gotta find a way to make a change somehow.
Theres gotta be a way for us to make it better.
What if everybody, what if everybody reached out with just one hand (reached with just one hand).
What if everybody, what if everybody sang out with just one voice (sang with just one voice).
Maybe we could change things.
What if everybody, what if everybody cared with just one heart (cared with their own heart).
What if everybody, what if everybody tried to light one spark (tried to light one spark).
Maybe we could change things somehow.
Here in our hearts.
Oh the answer is there.
If we only would look inside them.
We can make it better, we can make it better...if we try together.
What if everybody, what if everybody reached out with just one hand (reached with just one hand).
What if everybody, what if everybody sang out with just one voice (sang with just one voice).
Maybe we could change things.
What if everybody, what if everybody cared with just one heart (cared with their own heart).
What if everybody, what if everybody tried to light one spark (tried to light one spark).
Maybe we could change things somehow
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Orphan's Song
I had a little bird,
I took it from the nest;
I prest it, and blest it,
And nurst it in my breast.
I set it on the ground,
I danced round and round,
And sang about it so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And oh but I love thee dearly!'
I make a little feast
Of food soft and sweet,
I hold it in my breast,
And coax it to eat;
I pit, and I pat,
I call it this and that,
And sing about it so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly!'
I may kiss, I may sing,
But I can't make it feed,
It taketh no heed
Of any pleasant thing.
I scolded, and I socked,
But it minded not a whit,
Its little mouth was locked,
And I could not open it.
Tho' with pit, and with pat,
And with this, and with that,
I sang about it so cheerly,
And 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly.'
But when the day was done,
And the room was at rest,
And I sat all alone
With my birdie in my breast,
And the light had fled,
And not a sound was heard,
Then my little bird
Lifted up its head,
And the little mouth
Loosed its sullen pride,
And it opened, it opened,
With a yearning strong and wide.
Swifter than I speak
I brought it food once more,
But the poor little beak
Was locked as before.
I sat down again,
And not a creature stirred,
I laid the little bird
Again where it had lain;
And again when nothing stirred,
And not a word I said,
Then my little bird
Lifted up its head,
And the little beak
Loosed its stubborn pride,
And it opened, it opened,
With a yearning strong and wide.
It lay in my breast,
It uttered no cry,
'Twas famished, 'twas famished,
And I couldn't tell why.
I couldn't tell why,
But I saw that it would die,
For all that I kept dancing round and round,
And singing above it so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly!'
I never look sad,
I hear what people say,
I laugh when they are gay
And they think I am glad.
My tears never start,
I never say a word,
But I think that my heart
Is like that little bird.
Every day I read,
And I sing, and I play,
But thro' the long day
It taketh no heed.
It taketh no heed
Of any pleasant thing,
I know it doth not read,
I know it doth not sing.
With my mouth I read,
With my hands I play,
My shut heart is shut,
Coax it how you may.
You may coax it how you may
While the day is broad and bright,
But in the dead night
When the guests are gone away,
And no more the music sweet
Up the house doth pass,
Nor the dancing feet
Shake the nursery glass;
And I've heard my aunt
Along the corridor,
And my uncle gaunt
Lock his chamber door;
And upon the stair
All is hushed and still,
And the last wheel
Is silent in the square;
And the nurses snore,
And the dim sheets rise and fall,
And the lamplight's on the wall,
And the mouse is on the floor;
And the curtains of my bed
Are like a heavy cloud,
And the clock ticks loud,
And sounds are in my head;
And little Lizzie sleeps
Softly at my side,
It opens, it opens,
With a yearning strong and wide!
It yearns in my breast,
It utters no cry,
'Tis famished, 'tis famished,
And I feel that I shall die,
I feel that I shall die,
And none will know why.
Tho' the pleasant life is dancing round and round
And singing about me so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly!'
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Time At Band Camp
I’ll always remember the day
I was writing in my notebook
Alone in the woods by our bunks
I was already thinking of you
Contemplating ways to be near you
Searching for an excuse to talk to you
I heard I twig snap behind me and looked
You laughed and said you were trying not to be conspicuous
I was still so nervous around you but I laughed and smiled at you
Just because I was nervous didn’t mean I couldn’t flirt
You had your guitar case in your hand and sat on the bench across from me
I laid on my stomach, facing you and I watched as you tuned
After a day of marching the slight breeze was welcomed
And the rustling of the leaves around us added to the moment
With your guitar tuned and my full attention you began to play
I was captivated by your voice and amazed by your playing ability
You sang of heart break
You sang of hope
You sang of lost love
You sang of days long since passed
You sang songs that meant a lot to you
You sang songs that you wrote
You captured my heart; even before that day
From that day forth we continued our odd status
So much more than friends
But never quite lovers
Now you are with someone who can make you happy
As am I
But I will always cherish those moments we shared
One time at band camp
poem by Brittney Wilhoit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Voice
One feather is a bird,
I claim; one tree, a wood;
In her low voice I heard
More than a mortal should;
And so I stood apart,
Hidden in my own heart.
And yet I roamed out where
Those notes went, like the bird,
Whose thin song hung in air,
Diminished, yet still heard:
I lived with open sound,
Aloft, and on the ground.
That ghost was my own choice,
The shy cerulean bird;
It sang with her true voice,
And it was I who heard
A slight voice reply;
I heard; and only I.
Desire exults the ear:
Bird, girl, and ghostly tree,
The earth, the solid air--
Their slow song sang in me;
The long noon pulsed away,
Like any summer day.
poem by Theodore Roethke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sonnet for Noireen
I saw you across a crowded room
I fell in love
I had to write you a sonnet
My heart went vroom vroom vroom
I asked for your hand
I won it
All the eyes were on us
As we glided across the floor
The ladies Cooed
The men cussed
All full of envy
As we danced more and more
We danced slowly
We danced swiftly
The ladies bowed so lowly
The men minced so shifty
We were too busy in love
Our steps as one so nifty
So let the music of love play on
Let the fiddler’s bow be long
As you danced like a swan
All the world stood outshone
As the crowd looked upon
At we two dancing as one
I thank the lord above
For being in that room
When I fell in love
As my heart went vroom vroom vroom
I asked for your hand
I won it
It’s been a few years now
My heart is still soaring
To you the perfect muse
I offer this humble sonnet
To one: in all ways so beautiful
To Noireen
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song of Enchantment
A song of Enchantment I sang me there,
In a green-green wood, by waters fair,
Just as the words came up to me
I sang it under the wild wood tree.
Widdershins turned I, singing it low,
Watching the wild birds come and go;
No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen
Under the thick-thatched branches green.
Twilight came: silence came:
The planet of Evening's silver flame;
By darkening paths I wandered through
Thickets trembling with drops of dew.
But the music is lost and the words are gone
Of the song I sang as I sat alone,
Ages and ages have fallen on me -
On the wood and the pool and the elder tree.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hearing the Early Oriole
When the sun rose I was still lying in bed;
An early oriole sang on the roof of my house.
For a moment I thought of the Royal Park at dawn
When the Birds of Spring greeted their Lord from his trees.
I remember the days when I served before the Throne
Pencil in hand, on duty at the Ch'eng-ming;
At the height of spring, when I paused an instant from work,
Morning and evening, was this the voice I heard?
Now in my exile the oriole sings again
In the dreary stillness of Hsün-yang town ...
The bird's note cannot really have changed;
All the difference lies in the listener's heart.
If he could but forget that he lives at the World's end,
The bird would sing as it sang in the Palace of old.
Song #10.
The dew fell on her upturned brow
That is as white's the lily;
The moonlight in her yellow hair,
In her hand a daffodilly;
The violet's perfume in her breath,
Her cheeks like roses grew,
And as I prest her milky hand
I murmured, 'I love you!'
She looked at me with eyes that shone
Like stars among the roses,
While my heart like a dream-bird sang
Quick in the dewy closes;
And with a tone that sweetly thrill'd
The while I held her hand,
She whispered, 'I have loved you long,
And now I understand.'
poem by Robert Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Music Man
Sing your song sweet music man
Cuz I won't be there to hold your hand
Like I used to
I'm through with you
You're a hell of a singer and a powerful man
But you surround yourself with people who demand so little of you
You touched my -heart- (its suposed to be soul) with your beautiful song
You even had me singing along right with you
You said I need you
Then you changed the words and added harmony
And you sang the song you had written for to someone new
~Chorus~
Nobody sings a love song quite like you do
Nobody else can make me sing along
Nobody else can make me feel that things are right when I know they're wrong
Nobody sings a love song quite like you
~
Sing your song sweet music man
You travel the world with your six-piece band
That does for you
What you ask them to
You try to stay young but the songs you've sung to so many people
They've all begun to come back on you
Sing your song sad music man
Your making your living doin one night stands
They're through with you
They don't need you
You're still a hell of a singer but a broken man
But you'll keep searching for that one last fan
To sing to
~Chorus~
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melody
Melody
By: Adam M. Snow
O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
I long to hear thy voice, thy angelic voice
soothes away my hearts desire.
But it be that of love's choice
echoing upon thy voice.
Can thee forever love a lonely man such as I,
or do thee live on knowing not that of love,
or do thee walk passed and curse myself to die?
This feeling, this love O' Melody I cannot deny.
Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
Sing; let thy voice be heard across the Earth.
Let it pierce thy shadows.
Let the world see a new found birth
and the wonders its worth.
O' Melody, a song I longed after
to cleanse my immortal soul,
to feel the joy and laughter
and be with you hereafter.
O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
O' Melody, play thy music for I love thee.
Thy lyrics be true thy heart,
Thy song be thy key
to set all souls free.
Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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