• Other
  • ,
  • Nature


    From my windows, Starlings swarming

    Flocking on the electrical cables that cradled them

    Hopping, dangled by the changing colours of the sky

    As quiet as night,

    As silence as the morning breeze

    Their eyes look after each other

    A rumbling engine sends them away,

    in unison they fly

    Soaring above without goodbye

    Until next time

    Until allowed

    I wonder….

    If they know trees taller than the pole;

    branches as long as horizon,

    leaves as wide as a rainbow

    For them to sleep and lay their nest,

    not a dingy chimney to rest.

    I wonder…..

    What they feed their babies,

    when most are concrete;

    no worms or slugs to see

    What their beaks bring to their babies,

    when the heat on pavements flame their feet or

    the cold is so freezing

    I wonder….

    If ever they are to be missed,

    to be noticed,

    to be cheered

    If ever…

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    M4n1s’s Poems (10)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    It's rainy day 1
    Saved by the angels 0
    Edgwarebury Park 2
    Starlings 0
    Anaesthetic 0
    A Housewife's Moment of Sanity 1
    One Lucky Immigrant 1
    Auschwitz - Gaza 1
    To an "ex-Mum" 1