The Birds That Flocked Together
See, the birds gather!
The birds of a feather!
They're flocking together;
Singing together,
Playing together!
The big ones and the wees
Atop the linden trees.
With mirth and lively zings,
They splay their splashy wings!
Oh, how they revel in the sun,
Making the hunter call for his gun!
At the first gunshot-
Paaoow!
One's down for the pot!
The birds of a feather!
That flocked together!
That sang together!
That played together~
See them scattered!
poem by Kingsley Ayi
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Related quotes
Tweety Birds
Two tweety birds,
Hangout on a branch.
Two tweety birds,
Waiting for their lunch.
Their time is spent
Tweeting, preening in a bunch.
A ritual, a noise event.
Birds gather not in a 'bunch',
They stay together in a 'flock'.
I wrote 'bunch'
to rhyme with lunch.
So there, you have it in a block!
Birds of a feather flock together,
Sing melodious tunes
Birds of a feather in any weather,
Tweet in timely tunes.
Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Flying
All life through
Just the two -
Two birds freely flying
Two birds tacitly trying -
Together they always flew
Because they always knew
To not fly
Was to die -
Therefore, together, they always, always flew...
Right up until,
The very day their lives were through...
When they were gone
Friends gathered to sing them this love song:
'Birds of a feather were they
Always flying together unto the last day -
For what they knew is true,
Birds of a feather
Die fearless, and freest, together -
They never stopped flying,
They never stopped trying,
Until dying
They went forever together,
To freely fly
And never more die,
Nor even part -
Eternally connected, soul to soul,
And heart to heart. '
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Spring
Birds' love and birds' song
Flying here and there,
Birds' songand birds' love
And you with gold for hair!
Birds' songand birds' love
Passing with the weather,
Men's song and men's love,
To love once and forever.
Men's love and birds' love,
And women's love and men's!
And you my wren with a crown of gold,
You my queen of the wrens!
You the queen of the wrens --
We'll be birds of a feather,
I'll be King of the Queen of the wrens,
And all in a nest together.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Birds Turning South
stacking wood,
chill morning air...
birds turning south.
axe and boots,
old truck loaded down....
birds turning south.
dreams and passions,
tied down and loaded,
birds turning south.
memory stained moments,
when the earth stoppt turning...
birds turning south.
now nothing more than
empty nests, a stray feather...
birds rurning south!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When the birds fly
When the birds fly
the mind opens its eye
the heart looks up to the sky
the birds fly.
The birds fly south
the ear opens its mouth
the nose sees summer
the kids they are playing out...
When the birds fly
we dream our words dont die.
Reborn with a babys cry
the birds fly leaving stars
they stay in the night,
we are the birds
we escape to the light.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Harvest is Great
abode the meadow of flocking birds, and
echo the whole land it’s the season of
harvest, let the trumpeters loud its voice,
the great Jubilation has now welcome the
new horizon of hope and joy
let all the angels sing the beginning of
another years to stay, the gazing star of the
universe tremendously guide and leads the
whole way to the window of the galaxy
look at back, the stream goes without the
storm and the birds fly with each feather
silent the calmness of the wind beneath the
dazzling clouds of the sky
subside all the grain and wait until time
comes to grow in the land that makes it
flow and mold as a seed; the harvester has
joyfully hold the bleed and sow, till the
next season set to end
glance for a while, the birds have lovingly
fly for the sower to go …
poem by Antonio Liao
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Birds cheer others
Birds ae flying
Do not shout or beat gong
Birds are not pests.
Birds cheer others
Do not pollute atmosphere
Do not cut down trees
Birds are settling.
Take care of the birds
Life take care of you
Take care of you cheerfully
Birds are flying
Life is smiling.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Rain(1)
I thought the Rain had stopped awhile;
I walk’d the balcony floor in style!
Quivered, the Rain fell on my back;
Noisy Birds on trees, did I track.
I walk’d a bit despite the Rain;
Enraptured by the songs in train;
They seemed to ask one another;
Why wet our plumes and our feather?
The Rain stopp’d as though their prayer,
Was heard by Heaven in answer;
The noisy chirp died to a lull;
As if the Birds thanked God in full;
Maker, He cares for creatures all;
Pays heed to the least of their call.
poem by John Celes
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Silver Birds
Silver birds
getting ready to fly
red, white and blue
it's our pride in the sky
Silver birds
above the clouds
making waves
making us proud
Silver birds
shining bright
into the evening
into the night
Silver birds
amongst the rest
flying strong
to be the best
Silver birds
coming round the bend
getting ready to land
out of their descend
Silver birds
representing the states
with the colors of freedom
at all their gates.
Charlie Vergara
11.21.2007
2576
poem by White Tiger
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Blues In Minor Key
'Twas a lovely night in gay Paree
The stagelight was beating on him and me
He took my heart and spoke so well
And told me things no one else could tell
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key
He was a lonely tramp in the world of rhyme
With words that caught me just in time
I gave him my body I gave him my soul
In front of the stage I played my role
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key
The chimes of freedom rang that night
And stars in heaven were shining bright
The songs he sang were like ice and fire
Leading me through the bush and brier
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key
Behind his mask and behind his name
He left the stage with nothin' to claim
Like a shooting star in the empty skies
Our love was done without any ties
And far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key
And far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key....
Copyright © 2011 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved
poem by Göran Gustafsson
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The Sermon Of St. Francis. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
Up soared the lark into the air,
A shaft of song, a wingéd prayer,
As if a soul released from pain
Were flying back to heaven again.
St. Francis heard: it was to him
An emblem of the Seraphim;
The upward motion of the fire,
The light, the heat, the heart's desire.
Around Assisi's convent gate
The birds, God's poor who cannot wait,
From moor and mere and darksome wood
Come flocking for their dole of food.
'O brother birds,' St. Francis said,
'Ye come to me and ask for bread,
But not with bread alone to-day
Shall ye be fed and sent away.
'Ye shall be fed, ye happy birds,
With manna of celestial words;
Not mine, though mine they seem to be,
Not mine, though they be spoken through me.
'Oh, doubly are ye bound to praise
The great Creator in your lays;
He giveth you your plumes of down,
Your crimson hoods, your cloaks of brown.
'He giveth you your wings to fly
And breathe a purer air on high,
And careth for you everywhere,
Who for yourselves so little care!'
With flutter of swift wings and songs
Together rose the feathered throngs,
And singing scattered far apart;
Deep peace was in St. Francis' heart.
He knew not if the brotherhood
His homily had understood;
He only knew that to one ear
The meaning of his words was clear.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Paradise: In A Symbol
Golden-winged, silver-winged,
Winged with flashing flame,
Such a flight of birds I saw,
Birds without a name:
Singing songs in their own tongue
(Song of songs) they came.
One to another calling,
Each answering each,
One to another calling
In their proper speech:
High above my head they wheeled,
Far out of reach.
On wings of flame they went and came
With a cadenced clang,
Their silver wings tinkled,
Their golden wings rang,
The wind it whistled through their wings
Where in Heaven they sang.
They flashed and they darted
Awhile before mine eyes,
Mounting, mounting, mounting still
In haste to scale the skies—
Birds without a nest on earth,
Birds of Paradise.
Where the moon riseth not,
Nor sun seeks the west,
There to sing their glory
Which they sing at rest,
There to sing their love-song
When they sing their best:
Not in any garden
That mortal foot hath trod,
Not in any flowering tree
That springs from earthly sod,
But in the garden where they dwell,
The Paradise of God.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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May Song
BIRDS in the green of my garden
Blackbirds and throstle and wren,
Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring's
And so to your singing again!
Birds in my blossoming orchard,
Chaffinch and goldfinch and lark,
Preen your bright wings, little happy live things;
The May trees grow white in the park!
Birds in the leafy wet woodlands,
Cuckoo and nightingale brown,
Sing to the sound of the rain on green ground--
The rain on green leaves dripping down!
Fresh with the rain of the May-time,
Rich with the promise of June,
Deep in her heart, where the little leaves part,
Love, like a bird, sings in tune!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Birds Who Sing The Same Song
Once upon the hunter's lifetime
He entered the forest with his hound
As he waited for animal senses,
He heard the same sound
The sound came from above
It was the sound of birds
Though they were very different,
They had similar words
The birds were of two colors
They were either brown or green
They sang on top of their voices
The song of a queen
First, the hunter watched them sing
He did not understand the words
He set a trap on the tree
And caught some green birds
He brought them home
Thinking he has caught something good
After preparing the meal,
He realizes their meat is not right for food
Again, he watched them sing
He did not understand the words
He set a trap on the tree
And caught brown birds
He brought them home
Thinking the browns would not taste the same
After preparing the meal,
He realizes the meat was worse in the bowl of shame
He now understood the words
And watches them as they sing
The same song, one meaning
A song to get trapped in a ring
The birds sing the same song
A song of the soul
They sing in a competition
They compete for a common goal
They look attractive on the tree
They sing the same song
Understanding their words is the key
They sing the same song
They sound very kind
They sing the same song
They have a motive in mind
They sing the same song
They sing and fly from the leaves to the stem
But the hunter desires none of them
The hunter would now find other creatures
With the best of all features
Because the birds sing the same song
poem by Mark Nyamekye Boadi
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Trees are more like FOWLS,
Trees are more like FOWL'S,
Trees are more like FOWL'S,
The Birds that EMERGED is greater than 40's and 80's,
This Historic moment is like a TIGER,
Taking this THOUGHT,
There is the NEW EMERGING of FOWLS,
Imagine of another New Composure maybe another MISSION completed for these BIRDS,
The Birds will flow in all COLOUR'S since the love of God hast no STATUS.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Wings
If GOD had given man wings
As he did the angels upon their birth
Would Man be satisfied with the Earth below
Or would he neglect all and for GOD he would search.
Would he throw all of his dreams and wishes away
As he would fly towards the heavens and sky
Would his only thought was to find GOD himself
And forever he would search until he would die.
Would his life be forever searching
And never one place would he call home
Neglecting the Earth and soil on the ground below
And always would he roam.
If GOD had given man wings
As he did to the birds up in the sky
Would GOD want man to visit him
Or just to give Man the ability to try.
Would Man then think that he was GODS equal
If he too like the birds had wings on his back
Or would he think that he was one of GODS Angels
And then against creatures he would fight and attack.
But then GOD he indeed knows all
As been preached by pastors, leaders and Kings
So I look up in the sky as the birds soar with content
I am am so happy GOD never gave man any wings.
poem by Randy McClave
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Forever For Her
I blew it, and if I knew what to do then I'd do it,
but the part that I have I'll get to it, and forever her is over for me.
Forever is just a word that she said that means never,
to be with another together, and with the weight of a feather it tore into me.
Then I knew it, all the work that it took to get through it,
on the wings of a feather that flew it, then on to my shoe, come up into me.
Well,
Everybody's reaction is changin' you, but,
their love is only a fraction of what I can give to you.
So let's do it, let's get on the plane and just do it,
like the birds and the bees, a-get to it, let's get outa town and forever be free.
Forever, a word that we could say together, it could change if you want for the better.
Just tug on my shoulder and lay down next to me.
I blew it, and if I knew what to do then I'd do it,
but the part that I have I'll get to it, and forever her is over for me.
Forever is just a word that she said that means never,
to be with another together, and with the weight of a feather it tore into me.
Everybody's reaction is changin' you, but,
their love is only a fraction of what I can give to you.
Well,
Let's do it, let's get on the plane and just do it,
like the birds and the bees, a-get to it,
let's just get outa town and forever be free.
Forever, a word that we could say together, it could change if you want for the better.
Just tug on my shoulder and lay down next to me.
Yeah...
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why do Birds Chirp in the Trees?
why do little birds chirp so loud in the trees
in the early morn the sun a yellow fiery
globe inching its greeting up the eastern sky?
it is because of the the little birds' excitements
for adventures of the new day
where their wings would take them for worms
for mates, for games, for the breeze in the air
why do birds chirp so loud in the trees at the close of day
the sun a fiery red globe gliding through the coppice western sky
it is because they wish to share their adventures of the day
chiding each other to prove who have taken the most worms
the new mates they have come to know
and where they should head the next day
why do birds stay so quiet in the night
the moon a golden disc keeping watch over foes?
it is because God has pulled a blanket over
their mind so that they can rest and
find strength when the sun starts lighting up a new day
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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