Red Browed Finches
Red browed finches or red browed firetails two names they are known by
They like to live near cover where from bush to tree they fly
The reason they live near cover the well informed say
Is that they need places to hide in from bigger birds of prey.
Dark olive green in colour red eyebrows, red rump and olive tail
And with only minor differences between the female and the male
Their calls rather high pitched sound a bit like tizeee
Familiar to bushy places and birds one often see.
In a flask shaped nest of dried grass in a thorny bush the female her eggs lay
Six to seven or even eight eggs that look more white than gray
They breed from September to November in Australia in the south
And their young in December can be seen flying about.
They never seem to venture far from the cover of the trees
And they eat grass seeds and insects and sometimes berries and bees
With red eyebrows, red bills and red rumps and darkish olive green
Australia's red browed fnches by cover often seen.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Related quotes
Red Browed Firetails
One can't mistake them for their scratchy song
To small seed eating family of birds they belong
Some call them red browed finches others the red browed firetails
And the females hard to distinguish from the males.
With red bill and brows and neck and unders gray
And red rump, dark tail and greenish wings I see them every day
They perch on fence wire near where paddocks are
And to get their food they don't have to fly far.
They live in small flocks on a diet of seeds
And I see them often amongst grasses and weeds
Of the human kind they do seem rather shy
And from the paddock to the fence they fly.
On sapling tree or creeper they build their globe nest of dried grass or hay
Where they lay up to six eggs of white to gray
And their nests hard to find and well hidden away
From currawong and other birds of prey.
Red browed firetails or finches birds I often see
On paddock fence wire or on branch of tree
Of human kind they have a healthy fear
And they fly away if to them you come near.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Treecreepers
Elusive birds them one don't often see
Treecreepers build their cup shaped nest of bark behind loose bark of tree
From predators concealed and hidden away
And pinkish spotted eggs the female lay.
Shy woodland birds of humans they show respectful fear
They climb tree trunks in search of insects and when human to them venture near
Of the tree trunk they disappear to the other side
Of watchers eyes they'd much prefer to hide.
They will never be renowned as birds of song
Though their familiar chirps one hardly could get wrong
The ornithologists and bird watchers on studying them don't spend much of their time
And they seldom have inspired the poets to rhyme.
From the day they leave the nest until the day they die
From ground up they climb the tree and then to the next tree fly
To climb again in search of invertebrates such things they like to eat
They must have great strength in their tiny feet
In wooded places they like to reside
And from predators their cup shaped nest they hide
Shy little birds when human to them venture near
To the other side of the tree trunk they disappear.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXXVI: Cover
We cover bitterness with satyr
We cover sadness with smile
We cover happiness with tears
We cover pride with stubbornness
We cover anger with jokes
We cover grudge with loyalty
We cover love with play
We cover lust with generosity
We cover sorrow with toughness
We cover ambition with hard work
We cover hope with pessimism
We cover fear with deniable
We cover dream with horror
We cover shame with sarcasm
We cover lone with rebellion
We cover clueless with boasting
We cover ignorance with invisibility
We cover truth with shadow
We cover trouble with distraction
We cover envy with humiliation
We cover lie with innocence
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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On A Morning In Late September
Above the sunlit paddock just like a small speck in the sky
The little brown skylark is carolling as up to the high clouds he fly
On a beautiful morning in September approaching the prime of the Spring
On bushes and trees all around me the nesting birds whistle and sing.
Each species of bird distinctive by their voice Nature is a marvellous thing
The skylark to proclaim his borders is obliged to take to the wing
In a tussock of grass quite well hidden her eggs kept warm by the heat of her breast
Incubating the next generation his partner she sits in her nest.
A small mob of kangaroos hop through the paddock to the scrub dotted with trees nearby
Away from prying eyes they feel safer their privacy they too enjoy
They stay in cover till twilight and as night fall nears they venture out
And under the cover of darkness they feed and go on hop about.
On a morning in late September the lark o'er the paddock in song
Even by his voice he is distinctive a bird one can never get wrong
And kangaroos hopping to cover they are not often seen by day
Amongst the scrub surrounded by gums and wattles hidden from prying eyes in safety they lay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Highly-Colored Romance
Ben Green was a New-Hampshire boy,
Who stood full six feet two:
A jovial chap this same Ben Green,
Though he had oft been blue.
He loved a girl named Olive Brown,
Who lived near Bixby's pond,
And who, despite her brunette name,
Was a decided blonde.
"A Highly Colored Romance."
A pink of rare perfection she,
The belle of all the town;
Though Ben oft wished her Olive Green,
Instead of Olive Brown.
And she loved Ben, and said that nought
Should mar their joy serene;
And, when she changed from Olive Brown,
'Twould surely be to Green.
She kept her word in-violet,
And vowed, ere she was wed,
Although when Brown she had Be(e)n Green.
When Green she'd be well read.
But, ah! her young affections changed
To Gray, a Southern fellow;
And Green turned white the news to hear,
Though first it made him yell, oh!
Says he, " How can you lilac this,
When you vowed to be true?
I'll take your fine young lover, Gray,
And beat him till he's blue."
Then Olive Brown to crimson turned,
And said, "Do as you say:
The country long has wished to see
'The Blue combined with Gray.'"
Ben Green to purple turned with rage,
And black his brow as night;
While on the cheek of Olive Brown
The crimson changed to white.
"O cruel Olive Brown!" says Ben,
"I've been dun-brown by you:
Let this 'Grayback' his steps retrace,
And take Greenback, — oh, do!"
Poor Olive Brown, what could she say,
To sea-Green look so sad ?
And so she rose, and said to him,
"I'll go and ask my dad."
. . . .
The years rolled by: Ben's raven locks
For silver did not lack;
And Olive, with her hair of gold,
Was glad she took Greenback.
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Concealment And Covering
you conceal so many things
for so many reasons
you cover them
for so many ratiocinations
you cover you cup of coffee
so it may not get cold that easily
in the same manner you cover your cooking pot
so it may get hot earlier and at least fuel
you cover your ears perhaps because there's so much noise
you cover your head because it may be so hot or there may be rain
you cover your book to protect it from stains
you cover your furnitures because there is so much dust
you cover your body, your heart, your mind
for so many reasons
to each his own because we want to survive we want to live
we want to be just left to ourselves in our chosen privacies
no one has ever said that survival is a crime, a sin, a wrong,
it is the most fitting thing to do, and you must do it too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Olive At Midnight
An olive at midnight
Green
shiny
globe
of
black
The size of a dirty workman's thumb
They (the olives) tumble towards me
Down hills and in still slick lakes of olive oil
I meet my dark shining olive
By suprise
It's midnight in the olive grove
My ciabatta catches him
spinning on the tastebuds together
My olive and I
Two star crossed lovers
One black
On green
Obscene nights of perpetual fulfillment
What a scene! my olive and me
My olive my heart
Oh my darling lovely one
Olive at midnight
At last
you have come to me
And together we will may a delightful
pair
my lips quake at the thought of you
quivering as you slither in a plate of oil
towards them
Olive at midnight
You have possessed me
I am yours
But too many press in
Only one is chosen
It is dark I cannot see you
Oh olive
Are you green?
Or black?
Does it matter I am not prejudice
My dear dear one
At midnight you thunder towards me
My heart is an earthquake
My brain a melting pot offondant cheese
I slice my ciabatta
A tiny onion a tomato pressed between
And you oh olive my love
I am done
Please leave
I am not hungry
It is past midnight
I must sleep
poem by Yvette Smith
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What Being in Rank-Old Nature
What being in rank-old nature should earlier have that breath been
That hére pérsonal tells off these heart-song powerful peals?—
A bush-browed, beetle-brówed bíllow is it?
With a soúth-wésterly wínd blústering, with a tide rolls reels
Of crumbling, fore-foundering, thundering all-surfy seas in; seen
Únderneath, their glassy barrel, of a fairy green.
. . . . . . . .
Or a jaunting vaunting vaulting assaulting trumpet telling
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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Not Able To Recall Each Word Anymore...
yes, we burn all the leaves
we do not really like to see the ashes on the ground
so we summon the rain
to spread the foul smell of the dead
thin
and unrecognizable and we ask the grass
to spread
as quickly as possible
to cover the tracks
and then that summer what we see
we like to see
green grass, blue sky, fresh air
flying birds, fluttering green butterflies
we love those conversations
though we do not recall each word anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A National Song For Australia Felix
Dark over the face of Nature sublime!
Reign'd tyranny, warfare, and every crime;
The world a desert—no oasis green
A man-loving soul on its surface had seen;
Then mercy above a mandate sent forth
An Eden to form—a refuge for worth.
From the ocean it came, with halo so bright,
Want, strife, and oppression were lost in its sight.
Chorus
First isle of the sea—brightest gem of the earth
In thee every virtue and joy shall have birth.
A land of the just, the brave, and the free,
Australia the happy, thou ever shalt be.
So earth in the flood no place for rest gave,
At length a green isle arose from the wave;
The dove o'er the waters the olive branch bore,
To show that one spot was cover'd no more;
Australia thus shall be sounded by fame,
And Europe shall echo the glorious name;
The brave, wise, and good, wherever oppress'd,
Shall fly to thy shores as a haven of rest.
Chorus: First isle of the sea, &c.
Land of the orange, fig, olive, and vine;
'Midst earth's fairest daughters the chaplet is thine;
No sick'ning vapours are borne on thy air,
But fragrance and melody twine sweetly there;
Thy ever-green fields proclaim plenty and peace,
If man doth his part, heaven sends the increase;
No customs to fetter, no enemy near,
Independence thy sons for ever must cheer.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Cover Me
The times are tough now, just getting tougher
This old world is rough, its just getting rougher
Cover me, come on baby, cover me
Well Im looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
Promise me baby you wont let them find us
Hold me in your arms, lets let our love blind us
Cover me, shut the door and cover me
Well Im looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
Outsides the rain, the driving snow
I can hear the wild wind blowing
Turn out the light, bolt the door
I aint going out there no more
This whole world is out there just trying to score
Ive seen enough I dont want to see any more,
Cover me, come on and cover me
Im looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
Looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The bird of paradise
The King of Saxony bird of paradise is a male
Black and yellow with brown iris, aqua-green mouth, grey legs,
With two enamel-blue brow-plumes. It seems to be so frail
Guarding its grey- brown female with chicks emerging from eggs
This wonderful bird is named in honor of King Albert.
A German king, devoted to military affair
Re-building Saint Afra School in Meissen like an expert
Proclaiming constitutional his monarchical chair.
He was a great Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece
And a Grand Cross of the Order of the Tower and Sword
Arbitrating between the claimants of Lippe for peace
He was a very wise king constantly moving forward.
Birds of paradise or Pteridophora alberti
In montane forests of New Guinea guard and stay
Their diet consists of fruits, arthropods and sweet berries
And they're hunted by natives for ceremonial play.
Bird of paradise, Lophorina superba, is small
The male has iridescent green crown and erectile cape
Preparing its '' dance floor'', it attracts females with a call
Hopping in frantic circles having elliptical shape.
The competition amongst males for mates is very fierce
Because they do not have as many females as they need
It's like a bizarre courtship when their songs the silence pierce
Curious females approach but they're not prepared to cede.
Magnificent bird of paradise has complex plumage
The polygamous male owns incandescent yellow wings
Blue-green feathers and the yellow mantle for its image,
Its olive-brown female laying two creamy yellow eggs.
Wilson's bird of paradise male is very red and black
Its head is naked blue with black double cross pattern on it.
With green mouth, blue feet and the yellow mantle on its neck,
It has a brownish female and eats small pieces of fruit.
So red iris has the Twelve-wired bird of paradise male.
It has yellow plumes and twelve blackish wire-like filaments,
While Blue Birds have wire-like feathers emerging from end- tail
Being sexually dimorphic they live on some islands.
Lesser bird of paradise male has an emerald throat,
Those polygamous birds perform courtship displays in leks.
Even to their females themselves do not need to devote
In their nests, their females usually lay two pinkish eggs.
Carolus Linnaeus was named legless paradise bird
Skin being prepared without feet for Europe by natives;
People thought birds were visitors from Heaven but 'Surprise! '
They heard that birds can touch the earth and they were so naive
MCN: CE65W-7U2JW-EGQJA
© copyright Fri Feb 04 00: 31: 58 UTC 2011 - All Rights Reserved
poem by Marieta Maglas
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A Robins Call
As the Robins cherps in the early morning light,
the female comes into nets to relieved her mate,
the male goes of to find some food to eat,
as then the the female begins to tweet,
"the egg is cold you lazy baster,
I should peck your dairy after,
I will have to sit here way to long,
as your lazy ass is gone,
she chirps I need to eat,
and repeats I need to eat, "
The male comes back into the nest,
a chance for him to rest,
to keep all the eggs warm,
he sounds out a alarm,
"I see Cat, I see Cat,
may it get go away,
unit another day,
it leaves, then nest is safe,
as he calls to his mate,
you slut, you slut these eggs are not mine,
all of this is a waste of my time,
come back to keep these eggs warm,
you slut, you bitch, I will sound the alarm."
this is the fruit of life,
bare it but think twice,
poem by Walter C. Edwards
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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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Medicate
I got somethin' up my sleeve
I know you will cover me
inside out and in between
I know you will cover me
I've got bruises on my knees
I know you will cover me
inside out and in between
and I know you will cover me
[chorus]
Run away
make hate
and get laid
we get laid
you turn me up
I've had enough
so medicate
medicate
I'm already incomplete
I know you will cover me
broken by your empathy
I know you will cover me
I've been lyin' here for weeks
I know you will cover me
inside out and in between
and I know you will cover me
[chorus x 3]
song performed by by Breaking Benjamin from Saturate
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Touch of Autumn
It is blowing, it is getting cold
Birds are chirping, birds are resting!
The long sunny day is gone
replaced by the sudden onset of night!
Leaves from trees, fruits like apples,
peaches, berries and grapes fall down.
My beans and squash seem ready
to sleep and abort the budding of flowers.
The green colours turn golden and
cover the living soil and ground.
September, October and November,
the golden long autumn months
of fallen leaves from windy heights.
___________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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You Cant Judge A Book
You cant judge a book by looking at the cover
No, you cant judge a man by looking at the cover
And you cant judge a book by looking at the cover
When I was young and went to school
My mama taught me the magic rule
And what she said I tried my best to follow
She said
You cant judge a book by looking at the cover
No, you cant judge a man by looking at the cover
And you cant judge a book by looking at the cover
Then I left school and moved around
And what I saw and what I found
Made me remember what she said to follow
She said
You cant judge a book by looking at the cover
No, you cant judge a man by looking at the cover
And you cant judge a book by looking at the cover
And now I think, by now Id know, that what appears is not always so
And I remember what she said to follow
She said
You cant judge a book by looking at the cover
No, you cant judge a man by looking at the cover
And you cant judge a book by looking at the cover
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Riverside Walk
The wildering flowers bloom beautiful and gay
Along the green banks of the water way
And joyful songbirds whistling merrily
With tiny hearts brimful of ecstasy.
And all seem perfect save for water flowing gray
But pollution is a common thing nowaday
And keeping rivers clean don't appeal to modern man
As it's not part of his progression plan.
From her nest midst water reeds dark moorhen fly
And she utter forth a shrill like chirping cry
A warning to her little moorhen chicks
To leave their nest and head for cover quick.
From reed built nest four young dark moorhens creep
With bright orange bills and as they swim they cheep
And head for cover towards the river bank
And hide themselves midst rushes green and rank.
I walked along in pensive solitude
And a quarter mile down stream from Moorhen brood
I came upon what I don't often times see
A mallard out swimming with family.
From mother duck a warning sound did ring
She beat the water with her flapping wings
And her seven ducklings her signal did obey
And dived under water and hid themselves away.
The mother duck was circling in the sky
Whilst all of the time on me she kept an eye
And her anxiety for her family did grow
And she quacked aloud warning them not to show.
And as I walked homeward in the gloam of day
The wildborn birds piped with the joys of May
And my thoughts were of wild duck and moorhen
And tainted water for man a shameful sin.
poem by Francis Duggan
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398
words like a forest hide me
and you will not see me crying
because my eyes have become leaves
without tearglands
words like a wall of rain cover
my weeping with the sound of its heavy rainfall
and you cannot hear me anymore
except the tender sound of a shower
and the rolling of the accompanying thunder
now i have grown words like a garden of grass
and some seeds are groomed to become trees
now i have kept my words like wild vines
and climbers and they cover everything about
my grief and lamentations
now you ask me where i am, ask my words
oh they will not tell you. You are my pain.
And there is no word equivalent to your name
anymore in this forest, in this grassy garden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words Like A Forest Hide Me
words like a forest hide me
and you will not see me crying
because my eyes have become leaves
without tear glands
words like a wall of rain cover
my weeping
with the sound of its heavy rainfall
and you cannot hear me anymore
except the tender sound of a shower
and the rolling of the accompanying thunder
now i have grown words like a garden of grass
and some seeds are groomed to become trees
now i have kept my words like wild vines
and climbers and they cover everything
my grief and lamentations
now you ask me where i am,
ask my words
oh they will not tell you.
You are my pain.
And there is no word
equivalent to your name
anymore in this forest, in this grassy garden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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