Tag Archives: #birds

The Warblings of Birds.

Two black blackbirds

with bright yellow beaks

were sat, discussing poetry,

philosophy,

and The Company of Leeks’.

The first black blackbird,

commented thus,

‘If I could come back,

through the myth of reincarnation,

I’d like to be a bus.’

The second black blackbird,

Unfalteringly replied,

‘Fare’s fair: ‘tickets please!’,

‘A little less fuss!’

‘Please move further inside!’ ‘

A wizened owl,

perched close by,

considered the words,

elucidating the wisdom

from the warblings of birds.

The Crow Plane

The Crow Plane

The crow plane flew

with a minimal crew

from Land’s End to John o’Groats –

only stopping at Crewe.

Aboard that craft,

everyone laughed

as all crow crews are wont to do.

As the crow craft flies,

a crow waitress plies

the passengers with pies

of a blueberry hue;

and a mug of toffee,

instead of coffee –

not everyone’s cup of tea,

that’s true.

For a one way trip,

with a meal and a kip,

some pie, and toffee to drink,

costs less than you think;

and no sooner have you left,

you will arrive,

in the time that it takes you to blink.

Blirds

Blirds

If you take a picture of a bird with your phone camera and it doesn’t come out that clear – you have taken a ‘blird’ photo.

Fields of Dreams

Fields of Dreams

The distant cars go by,

faintly headed to unknown destinations;

birds are flying endlessly hither and thither,

expeditious routes taking them on flights of fancy and need;

farm machinery is turning the haylage in anticipation of three cuts – if the weather holds –

and the sweet scent of grasses

gives a tang to my nostrils…

fields of dreams,

I live in thee.

As the crow flies

As the crow flies

One lone crow

in a sky-blue sky;

I walked along

as he flew by;

upon his way

he did go;

where that was

I do not know.

“Low-Flying Geese!”

“Low-Flying Geese!”

“Beware Low-Flying Geese!”

the sign read;

and then there was the small print;

“Or you’ll have the Low-Flying Geese Police to deal with!”

This sounded like a warning, and a threat; and I don’t appreciate warnings, or threats.

That was when it hit me.

Upon Seagulls

Upon Seagulls

A seagull laughed at me once;

then laughed at me many times;

but, I wasn’t going to be mocked,

by a seagull;

ideas to my mind soon flocked,

and I knew that I could get back at that gull

within the depths of my rhymes:

“A seagull had a silly laugh,

all the grace of a drunken giraffe;

a habit of being particularly nasty

to a tourist and his pasty;

pinching food with out a qualm;

then perching at a height, so calm;

enjoying its ill-gotten fare

then repeating the feat without a care.”

Oh, that didn’t really seem to work;

I made the gull seem cool,

myself a berk.

It’s hard to mock the feathered ones

that pinch your pasties, nick your buns;

I hear their laughter overhead,

and flinch at them in utter dread.