top of page

Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem.-Edgar Allan Poe

Poetry is when emotion has found its thought and thought has found words--Robert Frost

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance--Carl Sandburg

I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that is poetry--John Cage

You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some of it with you--Joseph Joubert

Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own. ~Dylan Thomas

joybragi84

Fly Away, Cardinal Brothers: A New Poem and a Picture of the Two Gents


Fly Away, Cardinal Brothers


How goes it there, my crimson friends?

Your crests are spiked; your feathers fluffed.

You’ve held that pose for half an hour.

I worried that you might be stuffed.


In the crepe myrtle where you sit,

The branches neither quake nor bend.

You steady them with your small weight

And hold them still against the wind.


Speaking of wind, I think we must

Prepare for the approaching storm.

I’ll fill your dish with seed and suet,

But I’ve no way to keep you warm.


Where will you hide, brothers in red?

To endure driving ice and snow?

You will receive but little heat

From perching close to the window.


Now, go away and fly away!

Hurry off to milder places!

I’ll not be moved to let you in

By your dusky naïve faces.


Yep, those two crimson gentlemen hung around the bushes outside my window all afternoon yesterday. Two gray females (sisters or lovers?) were also flitting about and sitting with them, but my phone camera would not focus in on the gray birds. I guess the technology didn't recognize them against the pretty much gray background. Therefore, since they didn't make it into the photo, the girls didn't make it into the poem. Maybe, in the future, I'll get in a position to get the blue sky behind them or the still-green azalea bushes.


Today, I have seen all four of the cardinals, but not in the bushes here by the window. They have mostly been flying from the grapevines to somewhere out of my sight. The window bush sitting seems like an afternoon thing for them--and the birdfeeder and suet cage have been a busy traffic for all sorts of birds, and the cardinals like to run the other birds off at random whims, so I will have to go watch the feeder from the living room; however, I can't get good pictures there. Oh, well! Who needs another cardinal poem right away anyhow, right? ENJOY!


Oh, yeah! Don't forget to subscribe to my blog if you haven't already.

Kommentare


I find that I cannot exist without Poetry--without eternal poetry--half the day will not do--the whole of it--I began with a little, but habit has made me a Leviathan.-John Keats

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value.-T. S. Eliot

A man may praise and praise, but no one recollects but that which pleases.-George Gordon, Lord Byron

The great beauty of poetry is that it makes everything in every place interesting.-John Keats

Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion and passionate flow of poetry to the subtleties of intellect and to the stars of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken and heterogeneous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, half of image, and half of abstract meaning. The one sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point and drapery.-S. T. Coleridge

The purpose of rhythm, it has always seemed to me, is to prolong the moment of contemplation, the moment when we are both asleep and awake, which is the one moment of creation.-W. B. Yeats

bottom of page