Spectacular Epic Poems 2-OTHER BIRDS

Like the birds-of-prey poems? Well, if you want to see more, give me suggestions! But here is one more that I wrote at a later date.

Peregrine

Flash! and the arrow is gone in the haze.

Then instead a Bird, a Bird in the Dusk,

A Bird in the Dusk rose up to fly away.

Rip! and the Robin is gone from its life.

Then instead rose a Spirit, a Spirit in the Glow,

A Spirit in the Glow rose up to float away.

Flash! and the arrow is gone in the haze.

Then instead a Bird, a Bird in the Dusk,

A Bird in the Dusk rose up to fly away.

 

 Like it? Good. SOOOO EPIC, innit? That was soooo chavvy. Right. These poems are about birds which aren't birds-of-prey. I will have to have another post soon which will be Excess Spectacular Epic Poems That Didn't Get To Be In The Official Spectacular Epic Poems Posts. Now, lets get on with poems.

Swift

Many men have wondered

How the Swift was granted his name.

Swift? The Swift? Who would have that name? 

Many men also do know

How the Swift was granted his name.

The Swift? The Swift?  The Swift? The Swift?

Watch and observe

This glorious bird

Then you will know why that name.

Swift as an arrow, as a lightning bolt,

Swift as a Cheetah, as a midnight bat.

Then lands on the tree-branch, not a jolt

Swift is the name and that is that.    

Blue Titmouse

Flocked as twenty

Blue, yellow, green, white.

 Flocked in the Hawthorn

Loudly heard but out of sight.

“See? See? See the hawk?”

“Fly! Fly! See the hawk?”

A flutter of wings.

A torrent of feathers.

Flown to the safety of the next tree.

But always one Blue Titmouse

Says good-bye in the claws of his greatest fear.

Capercaillie

The great male Capercaillie grouse

Struts and gurgles around the lek*.

He fans his tail and throws back his head

To crow and crow with all his might.

A real spectacle for the watching hens.

“Come, ladies, come! I am the best at the lek!”

Say the plumage and display of the cocks.

But after mating, the hens go off

To build their nests among the leaves.

The fathers never help with such,

And never even see the nest

Or the eggs

Or the chicks

So they will never know who to love.

* A "lek" is a large arena in a woodland clearing free of debris that male grouse and pheasants and also Ruffs use to display on. A place near the centre guarantees several hens. When a spectating hen has chosen a cock, she will push past the other cocks, mate with him, then go back to the undergrowth to build a nest and lay eggs. Woodcock and snipe (there are three snipe species. The Great Snipe, the Common or Middle Snipe, and the Jack Snipe) use a similar clearing to do their display-flights (roding) but it is not worn bare by feet.  

Great Titmouse

The greatest of the Parus Titmice

Black, white, yellow, green, and blue.

Sings his heart out in the Blackthorn

“I need you women, I'm singing for you!”

Agile climber, feasting on the ripe black sloes.

 Purple juice runs down his bill.

Always busy, never static.

Hopping, calling, never still.

Kingfisher

A kingfisher waits

By the side of a river

A shimmering arrow

Drawn out of its quiver

Patiently waiting

For the little fishes

For a big fat one

The little bird wishes                                                                         

That wish has come true

And under the water

Comes the big fish

The bird’s gonna slaughter

The kingfisher darts

And all is still

And comes back up with a fish in his bill! 

Nightingale

The Nightingale sings at dawn, at dusk.

At midnight, and all the way after, before.

The Nightingale sings, all when the Moon is lighting the Sky.

O, the great flare of the Moon in the Dark,

And never the flare of the Sun in the Light.

The Nightingale sings, as the silver lantern rises and all the time

Until the light will dip down.

The light will dip down.

The light will dip down.

The light will dip down, but the Spirit of the Song never will go.

The Graceful Silence of a Mute among Whoopers  

Vibrant curling notes

Winding around the tongues of the Whoopers,

Suddenly out of the open bills fly

Out – and whoooooOOP! – curl, twist and coil

Out of the bill fly to summon more for the wedge*.

But out in the middle,

Passing through like royalty,

A Mute is silently going.

The Whoopers humbly back away to clear a path.

No noise, no curling notes,

No sound comes out from this bill.

Gracefully gliding through the water, bigger and sleeker

Than any Whooper could be.

*A flock of swans is called a wedge.

Copyright Eleanor Woodcock 2011-2012 MWAHAHAHA!!! Copyrights are EPIC! (No, I don't know what that's about.) 

Like them? I'm doing a Mute Swan one next. It will be EPIC and SPECTACULAR I promise you.  I will also do one on a Gean (Wild Cherry). Yes, it isn't a bird, but I will still mention it. I put the Epic Face (I didn't make it up on the PC. Search Epic Face in Google Images if you don't believe me) again just for Epic Luck that some people will stick up comments on more birds they want me to do poems on. Oh yeah, I'm going to do a Raven (the largest Passerine or perching bird, that is with feet modified to grip a branch or other perch, in the whole world) and one on the Merlin (Britain's smallest bird-of-prey, little bigger than a Mistle Thrush.) Byee peoples! KEEP COMMENTING!!!!!!!!