Array ( [sid] => 186672 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Birdsong [time] => 2019-11-25 11:49:57 [hometext] => A bird doesn/'/t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song. [bodytext] => /
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I never knew the call of the chat
could sound so beautiful;
or the lonely loon could frame a tune,
that proved so bountiful.

the lark’s sharp cry or evening trill
align with the song of the whippoorwill;
the raven’s caw a scathing claw,
that opened me from heart to maw.

the lyrebird, mimic king
taught my soul how to sing;
showed me almost everything
could be copied to perfection:
but I had my own direction.

perched on a fence with sun aglow,
the robin’s chirp
and the rooster’s crow, were
messages that I had to go
and find my voice in ways I know.

this, a dedication to the birds
who taught me how to sing with words;
and build those nests of verse and rhyme,
to nurture babies till their time.


[comments] => 4 [counter] => 150 [topic] => 69 [informant] => spike [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => poets ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Birdsong


Birdsong
Date: Monday, 25th November 2019 @ 11:49:57 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: spike
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I never knew the call of the chat
could sound so beautiful;
or the lonely loon could frame a tune,
that proved so bountiful.

the lark’s sharp cry or evening trill
align with the song of the whippoorwill;
the raven’s caw a scathing claw,
that opened me from heart to maw.

the lyrebird, mimic king
taught my soul how to sing;
showed me almost everything
could be copied to perfection:
but I had my own direction.

perched on a fence with sun aglow,
the robin’s chirp
and the rooster’s crow, were
messages that I had to go
and find my voice in ways I know.

this, a dedication to the birds
who taught me how to sing with words;
and build those nests of verse and rhyme,
to nurture babies till their time.




This poem is Copyright © spike


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