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Posts Tagged ‘bird’

Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet) –
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.

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The bird with the beep beep so throaty –
Roadrunner – was chased by coyote.
But speed didn’t match;
He never could catch
That bird with the feet that were floaty. 

We kids were all fed that same story
And so the roadrunner got glory
He didn’t deserve
‘Cause someone with nerve
Made slower the faster – lied sorely.


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A coyote is faster than a roadrunner:
http://10000birds.com/how-fast-can-a-roadrunner-run.htm

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

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(for Father’s Day, 2011)

Father –
It was the why you rose to work, with sometimes fewer words:
Mouths to feed, with open beaks, just like the baby birds.

Father –
It was the why you sometimes had to toughly discipline,
Like sergeants in the army mold raw recruits into men.

Father –
It was the why of outer gruff, quite needed to be firm,
When even that grew out of love, the greatest gentle germ.

Father –
It was the why God made your shoulders wider than the rest,
To lean upon when worldly woes against my soul were pressed.

Father –
All that and more is in the word, your role within the ranks.
All that and more is what you are, to me, and I give thanks.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow raw.

And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around;
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, plashless, as they swim.

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