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Ksjpari Aug 2017
A pink small sparrow
Comes at my halo
And grants me furlough
To travel through hollow;
I do after her lonely flow
But at my trail many glow
With expectation inflow
Of Money red or yellow.
It made me strong fellow,
From yesterday to tomorrow,
Who travels lonely and slow
By using a wheelbarrow.
No friend or enemy allow
Me to enter in his furrow.
So ye decide judiciously now
And choose relatives or sparrow.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
M Norris Jun 2017
How I long to be free like the Sparrow.
Alas, these holes are far too narrow,
And I cannot compress my marrow.
This fate is a heavy burden to bare,
Oh!
How I long to be free like the Sparrow.
The inspiriration for this came from, funnily enough, my 1y/o son discovering the baby gate.
James Court Jun 2017
somebody
please
ask that
rowdy
rascal to shove
off so I can
write in peace
K Balachandran Mar 2017
Sparrows in brisk flight,
divide, avoid the tower
their reunion seamless!
Nature teaches every creature the laws of avoiding conflict
Àŧùl Jan 2017
Es donde todos los barcos vienen a fallecer!

Esta costa inspirado a Piratas del Caribe.

Y el Capitán Jack Sparrow!

Y este es mi primer poema Español.


Coast of Death
That is where all the ships come to perish!

This coast inspired Pirates of the Carribean.

And Captain Jack Sparrow!

And this is my first Spanish poem.
This is my first Spanish poem.
The Death Coast is in the West of Galicia, Spain.
Inspired by the legend about the Death Coast.

My HP Poem #1375
©Atul Kaushal
Sam Sep 2016
Whenever the sparrow falls,
it's there to catch it.
The robin watches the sparrow,
encouraging it to fly high, to reach their dreams.
The robin said something to the sparrow today,
The puzzle was put in place.
The sparrow is content,
the sparrow is happy,
because the little young robin,
made everything okay.
Thank You <3
Sam Sep 2016
The dove left awhile ago.
The flamingo stared as it flew away.
The sparrow sat silently,
watching and observing,
Knowing that eventually one would break.
What the flamingo doesn't know, hurts it.
The dove, in fact,has had its wings broken before.
It was said that the wings were broken to no repair.
The dove was paralyzed, could feel no pain.
It was numb, it was in vain.
The sparrow sat patiently on the side.
It helped the dove get back in line,
Time was the true healer.
The sparrow watched as the dove failed,
The sparrow watched as the dove grew,
The most important part,
is that the dove overcame.
Even the sparrow thought there was no return,
though it never said it, it believed it.
Until one day, the sparrow looked out,
and saw the dove flying away.
The dove had healed, the dove was free.
The numbness went down and it began to see.
Now, this is a message for the flamingo to hear,
The sparrow has everything to fear.
The dove never wanted to fly away and not come back,
Yet the flamingo desires exactly that.
The dove was able to overcome their pain,
so I believe the flamingo can do the same.
It takes time, it takes patience,
but in the end, it is worth it.
The world will be clearer, and the flowers brighter.
The sparrow can not wait,
until the day the flamingo can fly away.
But to fly away with its own wings,
with its own strength,
to have overcome this obstacle,
and finally be free.
The sparrow will wait patiently for that day,
Helping all the way.
The flamingo will soar high,
not has high as the heavens,
because it will be low enough to where it can fly back,
Back to where the sparrow sits patiently,
for the help it can give once more.
xmxrgxncy Sep 2016
I introduced the birds to the flock
the dove was awkward, the sparrow, excited

but the falcon towered
and the partridge left
and the starling was left to cry
with the eagle just standing by

and who, you ask, who, who am I?

I am the flamingo.
Do I belong?
Not I.
I'm starting a bird series because it's easier to talk about events that way.
Stanley Wilkin Jun 2016
The sunrise burns the sky
A carefully coloured explosion
Blooded light flooding the low Kent fields that lie
Before Maidstone, excreting soundless motion:
Yellow carnation shards sway
With this violent advent of day.

In Hucking Estate diaphanous bluebells nestle
Beneath the groping canopy
Of Ash. Oak; the encroaching stinging nettle
Shields the frequent woodland scree
Covering with a verdant flush
Brooks that through the stones invisibly rush.

Within the hour, the Gorgon-headed sun
Sweeps aside the cloud-
The red into blue and orange has run
And in Lower Fullingpits Wood the increasingly  loud
Shuffling of badger attacking vole, fox strangling rabbit,
All compounded into daily habit.

The Kent Downs rise and fall
Like resurrected earth-bound music from a time
When hill, wood and pool
Emerged from unfettered chalk and lime.
Before the Cantii hunted in ancient Wents Wood,
For deer and boar, spurred not by hunger but for the love of blood.

Above the sparrow-hawk attacks the sparrows
Claw enmeshed in feather,
Beak unravelling neck. The unalterable sorrows
Of nature and weather.
Cruelty never ceases, but just gets more efficient-
Kindness remains deficient.
Charlotte Huston May 2016
My heart must be a SPARROW,
    Because it flies!
My heart must be mortal,
    Because it dies!
Hang that Sparrow from the tree!
    Ah, my sweet Heart,
Why do you burden me?
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