In the woods there was a tree,
It numbered one, not two or three.
Upon the tree there was a branch
That could be used to build a ranch.
And there upon the branch a bird
Who sang such as I never heard,
Its feathers they were red and pink
With some of blue.It made me think
That it could be of paradise
You know, that live on islands . Nice.
I called it down to eat some grain
And thought it seemed to be in pain
And that its song was a sad cry
Because it was about to die.
It did, of course, as all things do
And that is why I’m telling you
That you should always look above
Where you might see a dying dove
Or some bird that you’ve never seen
Up on a branch  having a preen.
So if you go in to a wood
Look for a tree, you know you should,
In case there is a branch thereon
Which birds may oftimes sit upon.
Oh!! what a glory to my ears
A bird that sings and has no  fears
Though all things must succumb to death
And singinging stops, as does its breath.
Tectak
2017

How pretty is this little bird
that you have built with word on word
and angel wings just shrunk a bit
so they will fit this lovely tit.
And of this bird in Paradise
I'd like to ask some sage advice:
when singinging as sweet as you
do you use just one ing or two?

(02-02-2018, 04:06 AM)Leanne Wrote:  How pretty is this little bird
that you have built with word on word
and angel wings just shrunk a bit
so they will fit this lovely tit.
And of this bird in Paradise
I'd like to ask some sage advice:
when singinging as sweet as you
do you use just one ing or two?

A Spotted Gerund was its name
and singinging its claim to fame.
I saw one twice, once on a fence
and I should say, in its defence
that when I saw one once again
Its singinging was not in vain.
It was, you see, the cock what sung
The hen is always in a run...
she only sings when laying eggs
but if a large one parts her legs
then double yolks make singinging
but standard size a single sing.

I saw this little birdie perch
upon the steeple of a church
where far removed from grass and sod
it sang, in counterpoint, to God
for when the bells pealed loud and long
they'd dinginging and dongongong

(02-02-2018, 04:47 AM)Leanne Wrote:  I saw this little birdie perch
upon the steeple of a church
where far removed from grass and sod
it sang, in counterpoint, to God
for when the bells pealed loud and long
they'd dinginging and dongongong

Can I eat my bloody steak now?.....singinging is stayinging.

....are you originally from Dongongong?

(02-01-2018, 06:18 PM)tectak Wrote:  In the woods there was a tree,
It numbered one, not two or three.
Upon the tree there was a branch
That could be used to build a ranch.
And there upon the branch a bird
Who sang such as I never heard,
Its feathers they were red and pink
With some of blue.It made me think
That it could be of paradise
You know, that live on islands . Nice.
I called it down to eat some grain
And thought it seemed to be in pain
And that its song was a sad cry
Because it was about to die.
It did, of course, as all things do
And that is why I’m telling you
That you should always look above
Where you might see a dying dove
Or some bird that you’ve never seen
Up on a branch  having a preen.
So if you go in to a wood
Look for a tree, you know you should,
In case there is a branch thereon
Which birds may oftimes sit upon.
Oh!! what a glory to my ears
A bird that sings and has no  fears
Though all things must succumb to death
And singinging stops, as does its breath.
Tectak
2017

Such a sweet poem about the life cycle. A little too sweet for my taste. I like to think about despair and regret. Anyways, very nice. You should a paint a picture of the bird, it would be very pretty in water color.