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A Selection of Poems for Bird Brains

by an anonymous DAS member 

Feather Magic

Listen, my friend,
You may have you heard
That I’m lucky enough
To be owned by bird!

Veggies and fruit
Filled up my cart.
Slicing and dicing
Became a fine art.

Picking out nuts
And pellets and seed
In order to meet
My little bird’s need.

Fur is just fine,
But feathers are grand.
What other creature
Will sit on your hand?

Toys are essential
With rope, beads and wood.
He chews them up faster
Than any dog could.

They say cats are finicky,
They should meet my bird.
When he tosses his food,
I don’t say a word.

Puppies are darling
And kittens so sweet
But chicks are so helpless
All belly and feet.

A newly hatched baby
From parrot to dove
Is sure to be something
You can’t help but love.

Their head is too large
And their neck is too thin.
Their bellies protrude,
Crop like double chin.

Soon barbs will appear
All spiky and thin.
When that flakes away
There’s a feather within.

It doesn’t take long
To weave a spell
The magic of birds
Is easy to tell.

Their beauty is legend,
Grand to behold.
The wonder of birds
More precious than gold.

* * * * *

Finch by the Inch

 Finches are a cheery sight.
Some are dull, some are bright,
Pastels, neons, quiet, bold.
Some incredible to behold.

Picture purple, then add gold,
Mark each line exact and bold.
Put in red and place some blue.
This tiny finch has every hue.

The garments vary with each bird,
From the wondrous to absurd.
Tails that reach down to the ground,
Variations do abound.

Songs so pretty and so clear,
Something wonderful to hear.
Some only peep, send forth their call.
A finch has something for us all.

As small as any finch may be,
They have a certain quality,
That’s very hard to put in words.
Put simply, they are super birds.

* * * * *

There came a Little Bird

There came a little yellow bird
Who sat upon my knee.
I raised my leg and said to him,
“Away with you, you’re free.”

Then came a tiny singing bird
Who landed on my arm.
I said to him, “Now off you go.
I will not do you harm.”

Next came a silly, chirpy bird
Who perched upon my finger.
I raised my hand and said to him,
“You really should not linger.”

Then came a bird, quite big and bold,
Who sat upon my head.
I told him straight that “If you poop,
You are as good as dead!”

* * * * *

My Bird Talks… REALLY!!


The bird you love talks all the time,

Sometimes you wish he’d learn to mime.

He talks all day and squawks all night.

You told your friends he’s quite a sight.

Your friends said “SURE!” but doubt your word,

After all, “It’s just a bird!”

 

You brought your friends who liked to mock.

You said, “You’ll see, my bird can talk!”

And there he sat, so still and shy.

He looked away, wouldn’t meet your eye.

When asked to talk, the bird looked blank.

You hung your head as your heart sank.

You coaxed and pleaded and begged your bird.

He looked confused, said not one word.



When your friends left, your bird looked sly.

As you crossed the room, you heard, “Hi guy!”

He dipped and bowed and said, “Come ‘ere.

I love you Mom!” with no one to hear.

But then you thought, “Do I really care,

If, when he throws kisses, I’m the only one there?”

I threw kisses back and watched him bounce.

Where else could you get so much love per ounce?

* * * * *

 My Hobby – My Addiction 

Birds are pretty.

Birds are fun.

I went to a shop

And I bought one.

When she looked lonely

I knew what to do.

A trip to the shop

And I had two.

I put them together

And they had chicks.

Now when I count

There appears to be six.

But I love my birds.

My birds are great.

They’re also addictive.

I now have eight.

I am going to stop.

I’m just not sure when.

I passed by a shop

And now there’re ten.

Look in a shop window,

I’m betwixt and between.

When I walk away

The total’s fourteen.

I’ve come to decide

That I now have plenty

Because when I count

There seems to be twenty.

You really must listen.

Be sure to pay heed.

What starts as a hobby

Ends as a need.

They have their own room.

Food bills are sky high.

Friends think you’re crazy

And you wonder why.

The sign on the door

Says “Bird Club meets here.

You’re welcome to enter.”

You know help is near.

When you walk in

And you look around

You see new friends

That you finally found.

Now you’re not alone,

There are others like you,

Who love a flock of birds,

And not just a few.

* * * * *

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