Serenade for the Sparrows
Upon the dawn's soft whispered breeze,
Tiny sparrows flit with ease,
Their songs like thread through morning's loom,
Weaving light beyond the gloom.
In hedgerows green and gardens fair,
Their melodies slice through the air,
A soothing balm to souls in grief,
In every note, a sweet relief.
With feathers dressed in earthen hues,
Their humble grace offers clues,
Of simple joys amidst the strife,
The unadorned thrills of life.
Under canopies of azure skies,
In fluttered dance, their spirit flies,
A unity in chirped refrains,
A bond that through the day sustains.
As twilight's curtain draws to close,
And stars on high begin to doze,
Our hearts retain their whispered songs,
In sparrow serenades, life prolongs.
The Owl
Under moonlit canvases of night,
The owl takes to silent flight,
With eyes that pierce the veil of dark,
Its presence felt, stark and stark.
Wings spread wide, an ancient sage,
Crossing skies, from page to page,
Each swoop and soar a tale told,
In the hush of night, bold and bold.
Rustling leaves tell where it roams,
Among the trees, its quiet homes,
With wisdom gathered through the years,
In its gaze, a world appears.
Its call, a mystic, haunting tune,
A whispered secret to the moon,
Unraveling mysteries untold,
In the stillness, tales unfold.
Though hidden by the light of day,
In our minds, the owl will stay,
As a guardian through the night,
Lending us its second sight.
Hummingbird's Hymn
Vibrant flutter, a heartbeat's hum,
Jewel-like bird, to flowers come,
Ruby throat ablaze with fire,
Nature's fervent, small squire.
Hovering in mid-air poise,
Balanced by invisible joys,
Wings in blurs of rapid grace,
As it seeks the nectar's embrace.
In the garden's blooming throng,
It sings a wordless, bubbling song,
A symphony of motion swirled,
In the quiet corners of the world.
Emerald plume, azure sky,
Upon the wind, it seems to fly,
A fleeting glimpse of wonder's trace,
In the hummingbird's airy chase.
When dusk draws in the curtain's close,
In hidden rest, it finds repose,
Within our dreams, it softly hums,
Awaiting dawn's sweet, honeyed crumbs.
Crane's Ballet
Lakeside whispers call forth the cranes,
Arranged as if on silk, blue lanes,
Lanky limbs in poised arrest,
Upon the mirror's face, impressed.
They bow in unison of grace,
Long necks arc in a tender embrace,
A dance choreographed by the breeze,
Performed with an effortless ease.
Feathers etch across the sky,
Regal silhouettes that fly,
An ancient lineage on wing,
By waters calm, their shadows sing.
Gentle giants of the air,
In their movements, a silent prayer,
Against the canvas of setting sun,
Their ballet whispers, "We are one."
With each day's end and morning's rise,
The cranes perform under open skies,
In each elegant posture and stance,
Nature's own, divine dance.
The Raven's Echo
Midnight guard perched on high throne,
Raven's call, a deep monotone,
Shadows stretched beneath its view,
Each echo shapes the night anew.
It speaks in riddles, lore, and rhyme,
A timeless warden, cloaked in time,
Its glossy wings like sharpened blades,
Cut through dusk's encroaching shades.
Legends worn around its neck,
Of realms beyond, a cryptic speck,
In its gaze, stories untold,
In the black feathers, wisdom old.
Upon the air, its figure cast,
Silent observer of the past,
Each caw a verse from history's tone,
A solitary scribe, alone.
In dreams it visits, stark and clear,
With messages we long to hear,
Across the stars, its cry does ring,
In every echo, truth takes wing.
Canaries in the Coal Mine
In depths unseen, a chirp resounds,
Where Earth's dark veins with coal are crowned,
The canary, small and bright,
Sings against the endless night.
A warning trill, a melodic plea,
From dangers unseen, a chance to flee,
Their yellow flash, a lantern's glow,
Guiding miners through the low.
Tiny chest puffed in bold song,
It signals when something is wrong,
A sentinel in feathery coat,
Upon each note, survival's quote.
When cavern breath becomes too thin,
Their tune will halt, trouble within,
Ceasing the joy of songbird's sound,
Till freshened air is once more found.
In hallowed halls of earthy tombs,
Where silence oft resumes,
The canary's song does bravely shine,
A feathered guardian in the mine.
Pelican's Pouch
Behold the pelican by the sea,
Billowing chest and mystery,
With a pouch so vast and ready,
Catching fish and holding steady.
Adrift on currents, salt and brine,
Amidst the waves, they serenely dine,
A scoop, a splash, a brimming store,
Nature's fisher, decked in lore.
In flights aligned, they carve the sky,
Painting patterns as they fly,
V-formations, rhythm set,
Over oceans, sails are wet.
At rest, they lounge on spits of sand,
Gazing where the waters blend,
Their kinship strong, together bound,
In solitude, with peace profound.
As sunset bathes the day's last light,
The pelican takes one more flight,
Along the shore, a homebound route,
With spirits free, and silence stout.
Courtship of the Peacock
In gardens where the peacocks roam,
Their tails unfurl like flowered poems,
Eyespots shimmer, iridescent dreams,
Each plume a verse in beauty's themes.
Their courtship dance, a grand display,
Majestic fans in proud array,
A rustle of feathers, hues that mesmerize,
A canvas alive beneath open skies.
The peahen watches, coy and still,
As each contender shows his skill,
Sun-catching splendor in each stride,
Nature's artistry, undenied.
In this ancient love parade,
Bright splendors slowly start to fade,
Yet in this moment, pure and raw,
The peacock reigns without a flaw.
The dance concludes, the crowd parts way,
A mate is chosen, come what may,
And in the garden's tranquil nook,
The peacock writes love's living book.
Swifts in the Summer Sky
Rapid wings slice through the heat,
Swifts on high perform a feat,
Darting, dancing in joyful spree,
Summer's flyers, wild and free.
They catch the breeze, they chase the day,
From earth's warm grasp they break away,
A whirling, swirling, breathless dance,
Above the fields, they leap and prance.
In skyward arcs, their forms converge,
On thermal drafts, they surge and surge,
A synchrony no script could bind,
In the air, their paths entwined.
The evening calls them to descend,
In chittering flocks, they twist and bend,
Nature's acrobats drawing near,
To roost as daylight disappears.
As night unfurls its cooling veil,
Their silhouettes against the pale,
Sky grow distant, yet in mind,
Their summer ballet's ever twined.
Song of the Swallow
Swallow swift with curving throat,
Chirruping from its airy boat,
Splitting skies with forked tail,
Across the oceans, through the gale.
Messenger of seasons' turn,
Its presence marks the sun's return,
With feathers brushed in chestnut hues,
It graces skies with flying news.
Upon the barn's weathered eaves,
It weaves its nest, the summer weaves,
A home of mud and straw entwined,
With love and care and purpose aligned.
In dips and dives, it hunts and plays,
Chasing insects through the haze,
A pirouette against the blue,
A dance in winds that gust and brew.
As dusk delivers the closing scene,
The swallow's song grows soft and serene,
A lullaby for the day's own end,
Till morning comes, and wings ascend.
