Birds and poetry (4 Viewers)

[Upland Birder]

On Newlyn Hill

I came across this poem on You Tube and its called "On Newlyn Hill".

On Newlyn Hill the gorse is bright;
Upon the hedgerows left and right
Song-Dizzy Birds the Spring-time greet;
The Bluebells weave a purple sheet;
Primroses star the lanes green night.
Across the bay each moorland height
Glows golden in the evening light
And dusk walks violet-eyed and sweet
On Newlyn Hill.

A Swarm of lights, pearl-soft and white,
A fairy lamp exquisite,
Opens its star-eyes at the feet
Of hills where shore and wavelets meet;
Then Dreams come, mystic, infinite,
On Newlyn Hill.

From Vagabond Verses by Crosbie Garstin

Dean:t:

 

[Merlin]

Hi Dean

Thanks for posting an interesting poem,

regards
Merlin
(not that far away from you?)

 

[Chocky]

This poem came into my head a few minutes ago after posting a Long-tailed tit in the gallery that I captured flying from tree to tree.

The long-tailed tit

From that tree to this and on to the next
I’ll fly till I find the right perch
Then I’ll preen all my feathers and try to look smart
For the ladies are out on a search

I know that I’m handsome and look very cute
In my beautiful pink and black coat
I hope that the ladies will think I am smart
When they see me I’m sure they will dote

So I’ll sit here and sing at the top of my voice
Whilst I titivate each single feather
And when comes a lady to sit by my side?
We’ll snuggle up warmly together
©Beryl Ladd 2013​

 

[delia todd]

Oh that is really beautiful Beryl. You should copy and paste it into one of your pictures too.

 

[Chocky]

Thank you kindly Delia |=)|
What a good idea. Make a post card. I oten make my own postcards and send them to friends and rellies with littl poems on them

 

[Chocky]

Blow dry

I’ve had my bath in the guttering
Now I’ll sit on this branch and preen
The wind has blown my feathers dry
Now they’re all fluffed up and clean

They are looking a little bit spiky
I hope they will settle down soon
It looks like I’ve had an electric shock
And I’m feeling a bit of a goon.

I’m sure with intensive grooming
They will soon be back to normal
Then when the ladies look at me
I can act superior and formal
©Beryl Ladd 2013

​

 

[Tanny]

Well done Beryl, some lovely little poems of the dainty Long-tailed Tit. Keep them coming.

 

[Chocky]

Thank you for your kind comment Tanny . |=)|

I'll try. I may think up some more now spring is nearing

 

[fugl]

The following isn't poetry (though it contains a short poem) but splendidly poeticized prose & I post it in the hope of resuscitating this moribund thread. It's from T. H. White's wonderful book, "The Goshawk". Though describing a particular Goshawk, a young bird that he attempted to train to falconry in the 1930s, it's equally applicable in my experience to wild accipiters of other species, and certainly to the two that I am most familiar with, those bloodthirsty terrors of the suburbs, the Sharp-shinned Hawk & the Cooper's Hawk. I get the very occasional Goshawk in my backyard, but the Sharpie and the Coop are more or less resident, and in the depths of winter I see them sabering their way through the civilians at my feeders almost daily.

"The Goshawk, says Aldrovandus, is known as the Bird of Apollo, because he is sacred to the sun. This can only be due to his flaming eye. Looking back through the rather thick mist of fifteen years, I remember him mainly by his armour-plated shins, with the knotted toes ending in their griping scimitars. . . . He was a Hittite, a worshipper of Moloch. He immolated victims, put virgins and children to the sword. . . . He was a Prussian officer in a pickelhaube, flashing a monocle, who sabred civilians when they crossed his path. He would have got on excellently with Attila, the most truculent of men. He was an Egyptian hieroglyph, a winged bull of Assyria. He was one of the lunatic dukes or cardinals in the Elizabethan plays of Webster.

But Hark! the cry is Astur
And Lo! ranks divide,
And the Great Lord of Luna
Comes with his stately stride."

 

[Merlin]

A Merry & Peaceful Christmas to everyone.

regards
Merlin

I Looked At A Rook (by Felix Dennis)

I looked at a rook,
He looked at me,
I in my nook,
He in his tree.

He gave such a look
Of scorn and pride,
I shut my book
And crept inside.

I took from a hook
My gun to kill
That haughty rook,
Who meant me ill;

But just as I took
Most careful aim
He gave me a look
That said: ‘For shame!

Before ye came, long, long ago, These woods were haunt of rook and crow, Of badger and wolf and doe in flight.
A squirrel could swing from Dale to Bight— Ye think me rude to thus intrude Upon thy paltry solitude? And yet thy gun much ruder is, For which of us intruder is?’

I looked at the rook,
He looked at me,
I in my nook,
He in his tree;
Back to its hook
Went gun— and, aye,
Back to my nook
Went book and I.

 

[Chocky]

The Tawny Owl
I saw this Tawny Owl today
He was roosting in a tree
He opened up his huge round eyes and
Peered straight down at me

He said” The day is blustery
I’m not a happy owl.
My feathers are in disarray
This wind just makes me scowl

As I sit here in this sheltered tree
I try to get some sleep
There’s a lady taking photos
And others come to peep

I know I’m rather handsome
With my lovely tawny gown
If I do not get some rest quite soon
I may put on a frown”

I took a few more photos
Then I went upon my way
The Tawny Owl went back to sleep
And rested through the day
©Beryl Ladd 2014​

 

[Tanny]

I just love this poem of the Tawny Owl. I've heard one hooting recently but never saw it to photograph.

Where have all the days, weeks, months, years gone, and what have I achieved during those periods.

Thank you Beryl for keeping this thread alive. I must bring it back to the front for easy access to read over again.

 

[Merlin]

Hi Tanny

It's good to hear from you.

best regards
Merlin

 

[Tanny]

Good-day Merlin, I'ts great to see you still around and thanks for all the contributions to this thread. I get the urge to write a bird poem but unlike the early days when I could write three poems in a day I can only write one line and then fall asleep.
I enjoyed your rook poem, so easy to read and in my stile of poetry.
Keep them coming mate.
Went blackberry picking today and my little dog found me a birthday present, an elephant hawk moth lava, haven't seen one of those since I was a five year old child.

 

[Tanny]

Posted by Bascar 2006
Hi everyone! As today is the third anniversary of this thread, I offer this modest verse to celebrate the occasion. Happy Valentine’s Day to all, and keep the posts coming!
Andrew
UNRUFFLED FEATHERS
Christineredgate started this
Three years ago. She opened a thread
On the famous Bird Forum,
And asked with decorum
Whether anyone knew
Of a poem or two
With birds as its theme
Or as part of the scheme.

None then did know, or then could know
To what extent the thread would grow;
Yet it became abundant clear,
As posts flew in from year to year,
That almost every poet
Of whom one had ever heard,
Or who had ever held a pen,
Had paid a tribute to a bird.

As with poets, so with birds,
All, it seemed, were mentioned:
Blackbirds, thrushes, nightingales,
Hawks and sparrows, kites and eagles,
Cuckoos, chaffinches and choughs,
Swallows and wrens, larks and ruffs,
And many more as might be found
In water, air or on the ground.

This three-year thread
Would now be dead
If members of the Forum
Had not given it a life,
And kept at least a quorum.
It’s true it rested for a while,
But in October zero six,
The poet Tanny rescued it
And gave its cause a welcome fix.

Since then the posts have come like snow,
Quoting poems loved or known,
Quoting poems just discovered,
Thick and fast, a ceaseless flow.
In passing though, it must be said,
That all the postings on this thread
Would have been that much more frugal,
Were it not for wondrous Google.

So thanks to Scampo and the rest;
And to you all, member or guest,
I raise my glass and drink a toast
To celebrate these three years past;
And to Christine I further say,
On this feast of Valentine’s Day,
Cheers to you and your endeavour -
May this thread go on forever!


Next month will make it eleven years from the time Christine Redgate inorgerated this thread, a thread that has given joy and pleasure to so many members of this great forum. Many of us have come and gone, some to die like myself in the near future, (But thats another story in Ruffled Feathers) and some who have other intrests that take up their time. I tried to go through all the poems yesterday and have only got up to page 50 after 10 hours of reading. Now I discover the thread has slipped down to page four so I thik it's time to bring it back again today, and when I've sorted out some of my own poems not yet posted I will post them, hopefully before I die.

 

[Tanny]

Peter Walton.
The Light at Inner Marsh. (RSPB, Burton wetlands)
The bird we went for never did appear
Across the fresh lagoons and muddy shore
That opened out below us as we strolled
Down the broad path towards the crowded hide.
Everything seen was commonplace: the tribes
Of gulls; tall waders summer-tinged; sleek grebes.
Yet they were jewels in the tide of light
Which over-the-shoulder flooded in-so bright
It peeled awaythe dullness from each bird
Till all were miracled, past any word.
A ducks black head, when stroked by wind and sun,
Shimmering dark green as it had done.


M.Corfe.
Thank you Mr Stapleton. (Stapleton wood)
Thank you Mr Stapledon for walks I've so enjoyed
The broken tracks of silverbirch await from city noise
The woodland beauty holding one entrance within its hand
The Squirrels, rabbits, moles and voles in magic Olaf's land.
My home sits humbly by your woods, my window's blessed with views
My life affected by your gift, my soul in debt to you.
Your name is now forever blessed in many Wirral hearts
Such gift, such magnaminity, your woods set you apart.

Inner Marsh Farm, now called the RSPB Burton mere wetlands and the Stapleton woods are two of my birding sites. These poems were in my collection taken from the magazine, Peoples friend, about 2005.
I have many more poems from this magazine, all with a mention of birds in them.

 

[Merlin]

This is one of the thousands of poems from Francis Duggan

regards

Merlin


A Beautiful Day in Winter

A beautiful day in Winter with warmth in the sunlight
And the clouds in the blue sky so woolly like and white
And the white backed magpie piping on high branch of tall pine tree
A great day for to be alive and life's okay with me.

Some birds already nesting it is that time of year
Their babes will be fully fledged before blossoms will appear
Upon the leafless fruit trees in their blooms of pink to gray
And Spring though seven weeks off draws nearer by the day.

A pleasant day in July without a trace of cold
And dandelions on the Nature strip bloom the colour of gold
And the pink flowers on the camellia tree so lovely to behold
They bloom in the depths of Winter by Spring they will be old.

A beautiful day in Winter without a chill in the breeze
And the house sparrows are chirping on the sunlit garden trees
It would take a grumpy person with this weather to complain
Though by the weather forecast tomorrow will bring rain.

Francis Duggan

 

[Tanny]

Hiya mate, thanks for being with me again, we will keep this thread going till our end:t:.

 

[palval147]

Thank you Tanny for finding this thread. I can't remember if I ever posted poems on it, but I'll have fun reading the poems & looking to see if I did.

 

[Merlin]

Here is a poem from the 'great' Edward Thomas who died in the First World War.

regards

Merlin



Edward Thomas

Birds' Nests
The summer nests uncovered by autumn wind,
Some torn, others dislodged, all dark,
Everyone sees them: low or high in tree,
Or hedge, or single bush, they hang like a mark.

Since there's no need of eyes to see them with
I cannot help a little shame
That I missed most, even at eye's level, till
The leaves blew off and made the seeing no game.

'Tis a light pang. I like to see the nests
Still in their places, now first known,
At home and by far roads. Boys knew them not,
Whatever jays and squirrels may have done.

And most I like the winter nests deep-hid
That leaves and berries fell into:
Once a dormouse dined there on hazel-nuts,
And grass and goose-grass seeds found soil and grew