Is It Poetry
Skipping through the fence.
Such small chinks on them caught a feather.
Preening as dominant eye's
see the worm into its deep hole.
Blue jays scramble in arguments array.
As two sparrows tug at each end untill it does.
Honeysuckle opens as a book waiting
to be explored by one nature loving child.
Comparing the coloured photographs.
To the one's grandmama gave to him.
Then there fly the crow's.
Those mean birds whom rob the other nests.
As they sit outside my window.
Eating the last baby mocking bird.
All this happeneds
while I watch from my bed, starring out my window.
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Comments about this poem (Bird by Is It Poetry )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
RoseAnn V. Shawiak
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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