The Superb Lyrebird's Song
Amongst the songbirds of Australia with the superb lyrebird as a mimic there is none to compare
He can incorporate the songs of the local songbirds in his song something that is quite rare
The voices of the kookaburra, blackbird, butcherbird and currawong
Are just three of the many voices in the master mimic's song
With the World's best songbird mimics the lyrebird he does rate
The voices of the cockatoos, rosellas, whipbirds and shrike thrush he can easily imitate
The songs of the robins, magpies and scrubwrens in his song you can recognize
Yes the lyrebird is a mimic who never ceases to surprise,
His varied song is beauitiful and his voice it carries far
He can imitate the noise of a chainsaw or the horn of a motor car,
On his display mound with his lyre shaped tail feathers above his back fanned out in a great display
He imitates the songs of the other birds in the woodland every day
And in his breeding Season he gushes forth in miming song
And the notes of any local bird he never does get wrong.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Related quotes
Australia With Any
The Nature and rugged beauty of this Southern Land
Is a thing one like me could never understand
A migrant from by old brown hills far away
Of Nature we learn something new every day.
How could one from the Land of the black and gray crow
Anything of the Nature of this Southern Country hope to know
The home of megapodes and marsupials and birds of beauty rare
Australia with any a Land to compare.
Australia the Land of the red and grey roo
Of emu, koala and wombat and many species of cockatoo
Of butcherbird, kookaburra, lyrebird, magpie and the pied currawong
The dark birds 'tis said who have rain in their song.
Of Australia's many beautiful parrots to name just a few
Rosellas, lorikeets and king parrots so lovely to view
The monoterenes egg laying mammals in Australia only found
The platypus and echidna mystery them does surround
The wonders of Nature have never been few
And each day from her we do learn something new
And I from the Land of the black and gray crow
So little of Australia's Nature does know.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Song of Wrongs
Some songs are trapped, while other songs are free
Some songs can linger, while others need a key
Some songs look Heavenward to find a place to be
While most songs have homes, some songs aren't so lucky
Which song would you rather hear
The song of hope, or the song of fear
The song that has everything, or the song that needs care
The song you care nothing for, or the song you revere
I'd like to listen to all of those forgotten songs
Not the song of rights, I want the song of wrongs
I want the song of solitude hiding in the throngs
I want the song that has no place to which it belongs
poem by Bianca Free
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Tis Not Of Love Or Love Of Song
'Tis not of love or love of song the male bird ever sing
Or any sense of happiness for to celebrate the Spring
His song born of aggression with borders to defend
In his war cry to his own kind he is not one to pretend
His song at early morning carrying in the freshening wind
Is meant to be his defensive shield against males of his own kind
His neighbour male sings back to him his message too is clear
All through the Spring in their gift of song they play their game of fear
The poets who write of songbirds and of their joy of song
Of songbirds lives and songbirds ways have surely got it wrong
Their songs may seem a thing of joy but not meant to be that way
'Tis not of joy that they do sing at the dawning of the day
He warns his neighbours in his song this is my territory
And if my borders you do cross you have to deal with me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Song for the Asking
A SONG! What songs have died
Upon the earth,
Voices of love and pride—
Of tears and mirth?
Fading as hearts forget,
As shadows flee!
Vain is the voice of song,
And yet—
I sing to thee!
A song! What ocean shell
Were silent long,
If in thy touch might dwell
Its all of song?
A song? Then near my heart
Thy cheek must be,
For, like the shell, it sings—
Sweet Heart—
To thee, of thee!
poem by Francis Orray Ticknor
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Wishing I Was A Songbird
I wish I could be a songbird
but not just to gracefully fly
for in the morning, emotions stirred
I would sing my song to the sky
A beautiful song it would be
A song beyond compare
It is then I would leave my tree
and take off into the air
Flying amongst the sun
with freedom as my song
when hearts of humans are won
as a songbird I cannot go wrong
poem by Glaedr the poet
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Life Songs
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
One of sadness, or of grief?
A song of misery?
When a newborn cries and opens its eyes,
what will its song be?
A song of greatness, a song of wealth,
or one of poverty?
When trouble comes, and surely it will,
what will that child's song be?
When we are born our song begins
and we enjoy its pleasant tune.
We sing its melody in the innocence
that leaves us all too soon.
As we grow we hear the songs of
people in various places.
Songs of pride, songs of hatred
and of conflict among the races.
The songs of children playing together
are very pleasing to hear.
Regardless of race, status or color,
their sweet songs don't cause fear.
The Master told us that with childlike qualities
we'll see God's heavenly city.
To miss such a goal because of hearts so cold
would be a tragic pity.
We hear life songs every day and
like smoke they fade away.
But lives that are sung with childlike meekness
will 'inherit the earth' someday.
To sing a song of wonder and worth
is how this life should really be-
with all the innocents throughout the earth
and with love as our constant key.
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
****************
Matthew 18: 3
****************
poem by C.F. Wilkins
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Song of the World
such a wonderful song
song of life
song of death
wedding song
famine song
happy song
sad song
love song
all-american song
bullshit song
druggie song
girls' song
sweet song
crazy song
MY song
poem by Rachel Stoddard
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Please Not Another Love Song
Please not another love song.
Pease no more baby,
Baby I need you.
Honey honey
I love you.
Please no more.
We all know the truth,
We all know how people leave us.
Just please not another love song.
We all know it's a lie how people are always there for us.
Then they turn their backs and we will be stuck with that love song.
So please no more songs that involve love.
Please no more sugar sugar your the only one in my eyes.
Sweetie, sweetie I want to me with you.
Just please not another love song.
We all know what happens at the end,
We get a heartache while the stupid love songs are on the radio. Please, Please no more.
No more songs about love
Cause we all know the end of the story.
We will be in pieces.
Please Please no more Sunshine, Sunshine
Your my sunshine,
Or no more Hunnybun, Hunnybun I am sticked to you.
We all know there's not a happy ending.
So just please not another love song.
Our hearts cannot take another.
We all know how the nightmare begins.
We'll be happy,
Then you'll go break our hearts.
While we'll listen to that love song.
So please, please no more love songs.
No more hun, hun I need to be with you.
We all know the truth about these love songs.
Please no more sunsflower, sunflower your my only sun.
Please not another love song
Cause we don't need to get hurt then listen to a sappy love song.
We all know the truth.
So therefore please not another love song.
poem by Makayla Straight
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In The Prime Of September
The paddocks looking yellow where the capeweed does bloom
And bright golden flowers on the gorse and the broom
And the flute of the shrike thrush is pleasant to hear
In the prime of September in the Spring of the year
At this time of year the musical magpies they sing day and night
How pleasant to hear them piping in the moonlight
And blackbird by his voice you cannot get wrong
He welcomes the dawn of the day with a song
Frisky lambs in the paddocks are frolicking about
When the Goddess of Spring is in the Land of the south
The laughter of the kookaburra the call of the weerloo
The big dark brown bird better known as yellow tail black cockatoo
Fruit bearing trees in blossom and nesting birds sing
In the prime of September in the southern Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Our song
See..that used to be our song
And those were our dreams
Before we threw it all away
Ignoring what the song had to say
See..those used to be us
And how we were so young
Before we knew all we know today
Promising and swearing on better days
Now that used to be our song
Sung by silent voices
Resulting on mistakes made by our choices
That was our song
So please don´t turn the radio on
Cause that was our song
And I might as well..try to sing along...
poem by Nina gáspari
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The Lyre-Tailed Menura
Far in the forest depths I dwell,
The master mimic of them all,
To pour from out my secret dell
Echo of many a bushland call,
That over all the forest spills;
Echo of many a birdland note,
When out about the timbered hills
Sounds all that borrowed lore that fills
My magic throat.
I am the artist. Songs to me
From all this gay green land are sped;
And when the wondrous canopy
Of my great, fronded tail is spread-
A glorious veil, at even's hush-
Above my head, I do my part;
Then wren and robin, finch and thrush-
All are re-echoed in a rush
Of perfect art.
Here by my regal throne of state,
To serve me for a swift retreat,
The little runways radiate;
And when the tread of alien feet
Draws near I vanish: ever prone
To quick alarm when aught offends
That secret ritual of the throne.
My songs are for my mate alone,
And favoured friends.
I am the artist. None may find,
In all the world, a match for me:
Rare feathered loveliness combined
With such enchanting minstrelsy.
In a land vocal with gay song
I choose whate'er I may require;
I wait, I listen all day long,
Then to the music of a throng
I tune my lyre.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Blackbird's Song
The blackbird's song it takes me far away
To northern Land and to a distant day
His kin birds sang all day until sundown
In leafy groves just out of Millstreet Town.
A blackbird piping on a blackwood tree
Awake the nostalgic memories in me
Again I walk the lush green fields in Spring
And hear the wild birds on the hedgerows sing.
Bluebells bloom by the hedge by the bohreen
And cock pheasant often heard though seldom seen
In the knee high rushes clap his wings and crow
By their calls and songs the birds you get to know.
The distance from the home fields may be long
But whenever the migrant hear the blackbird's song
He or she will see the lushness brought by rain
And walk through fields where wild flowers bloom again.
To it the blackbird's song has a nostalgic ring
It takes the migrant to a distant Spring
And though far distant the Homeland near 'twould seem
And the dipper's song is echoing in the stream.
I thought this thing nostalgia I'd outgrown
But the blackbird's song it carries me back home
And I walk the high fields where I walked before
Up to the hill through the wood at Claramore
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Old Songs
There goes another one
Another happy couple on the road to emptiness
I think of my father and mother
Can they imagine how two people can get in this mess
But the old songs say - loves forever
And the old songs never say die
But a song cant keep us together
How can that beautiful song be a lie
Me I blame the old songs
Filling hearts with rebellion and romance
Our book of revelations
And all we had to do was dance
Play us another one
Play us the hopes and dreams of twenty years ago
Theyre all over the bloody radio
Its like theyre telling us theres nowhere left to go
And the old songs say - be my baby
And the old songs say - she loves you
All the songs well sing come what may be
I like those songs
But Id like something new
Me I blame the old songs
Protect us all against a change of course
All our great expectations
Turn to alimony and remorse
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace Song
Music is away
My world is in pain
I try to murmur old song
Who's writer long ago was gone
Those years the world was in peace
That song used to be song
As song of love signs
Now Inside my soul still does survive an old peace song
But what is surrounded my world is a strange ugly song
Never I've heard it before
Nor to anyone of us
Strangers they are to us
With broken voice inside
I want to shout loud
Once again I want to sing the same old peace songs
But sad faces broken hearts
Are telling me to not sing any love song
poem by Majed Mora
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A Song..to Whom Does It Belong
a song
to whom does it belong
once it is born, , , and stays alive for so long
the poet has done his bit
he has put his heart and soul
to give the song a soul
the musician has done his bit
he has put his work and mind
to give the song a form
the singer has done his bit
he has put his voice to emote
to give the song a life
whose song is it now...to whom does it belong
the song has become a bird
it goes around the world
it is by itself..a persona
it goes on to live for long
[the indian film songs..at least a few go on to live for long
i tried to say how itis made and how it stays]
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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The Birds Chattering Inside Your Mouth...
the birds in your mouth
chatter, one bird has blue feathers
and it makes the sweetest song,
the white bird keeps mum over
all these caged noise,
perhaps it understands the language
of the soul,
there is a brick red sparrow
looking out the window
it is speaking in tongues
as i listen attentively and watch all these
within the fences of your face
i feel, but i have to be honest
there is nothing that i understand,
i do not wish to
i have had enough, of those blue, red,
and white birds.
but they must all agree that it is not the song
not their songs, but their
common cage, for not one of them
has uttered the nicest word in the
history of captives,
freedom.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Its Not A Song
Day turns to night, and I turn into bed.
Cant get to sleep; somethings in my head.
Pacing the floor, I try to force a rhyme.
Why do I fear this time?
Its not a song till it touches your heart.
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Now close your eyes; look into your hand.
What do you see?
Life is our song, to give and learn to take.
Time will not wait.
Oh, wont you please come dance,
While the songs still playing,
Wont be long till the silence falls.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nine Voices
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
On a beach
North africa
Nine tribesmen stand alone
Waiting for a distant call
Waiting for the world to answer
Thru' the night of a thousand stars
Encircled by the light
They began to sing a new song
Of forces that surround us
Nine voices
This dialogue
Nine voices
Singing as one
Nine voices
This dialogue
Nine voices
When the sun came up they sang
As the perfect calendar says
Each had the power of people
Speaking new languages
They gave forgiveness meaning
New ways of letting go
Each child is born for greatness
With forces that surround them
This voice
This dialogue
This voice
Singing as one
Nine voices
This dialogue
Nine voices
Singing as one
His voices
This dialogue
This voices
Singing as one
Nine voices
Nine voices
Nine voices
Nine voices
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nine Voices
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
On a beach
North africa
Nine tribesmen stand alone
Waiting for a distant call
Waiting for the world to answer
Thru' the night of a thousand stars
Encircled by the light
They began to sing a new song
Of forces that surround us
Nine voices
This dialogue
Nine voices
Singing as one
Nine voices
This dialogue
Nine voices
When the sun came up they sang
As the perfect calendar says
Each had the power of people
Speaking new languages
They gave forgiveness meaning
New ways of letting go
Each child is born for greatness
With forces that surround them
This voice
This dialogue
This voice
Singing as one
Nine voices
This dialogue
Nine voices
Singing as one
His voices
This dialogue
This voices
Singing as one
Nine voices
Nine voices
Nine voices
Nine voices
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Melody In Eternity 4.29.2009
Without a new book to hold my mind and
focus my thoughts, I’m at a loose end to-
night; started singing my favourite songs
in intervals of thirds or sixes; delighted by
the vibration felt right through my being
I sometimes cry over the loss of song in
my life; I never dissolve into a song any-
more; still cherishing the melodies that
used to drive me to tears when I was
small – I SHALL become a song
A melody playing in eternity, my song shall
include all the notes from high soprano to
low bass, I shall feel the joy reverberate
through all of me until the only thing left
is the song - nothing else
Holds the same enchantment; to become
my favourite song, crying with the notes
of the sweetest melody, is my
favourite fantasy....
poem by Margaret Alice
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