Tag: birds

Poem: the owls – 27/11/21
the owls, the owls
they tiptoe along the wire
sharing songs and stories,
eons of lifetimes together
fervent hoots and warbles
altogether
impressive wingspans as they envelop
the biting morning air together

hush down little prey
scatter as you may
all words, no prey, no victims
but treated with such tenderness
owls caress the vowels and syllables
without damnation
with much great proof
of ultimate, irreverent
atypical swayyy
through and through

plucked from the heavens
or beneath their soaring
impressive is as is impressive treatment sees
will and hopes proving
the chase is uplifting

the owls hoot as they see fit
sharing language,
skills
sharing to be free free free
in it.

the owls, can’t you see,
are here, once hushed,
now present and completely
doing as they believe, trust,
to share their magic
their wide saucer-filled eyes
echoed with great substance
reflections, mirrors,
no lies.
(27/11/21)

Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

Photo by Michael Hoyt on Unsplash

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Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
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November 27, 2021

Poem: Pheasants – 12/08/20

The pheasants are happier today,
they do not quarrel or bicker,
they simply stand upon the chicken wire,
plump chests and pride,
smiles shining within their beady eyes.
 
Pheasants should not be captured like this
but they are prized for their symbology,
their sign of luck and fertility,
and certainly
they are being reared
for men and women so greedy,
who want to gain altered fortunes so readily.
 
But I will tell you this, their flowing tails,
their glowing shades,
their elegant necks, long legs,
they send people into a frenzy knowing that their
beauty is here, available,
purchasable,
not only enviable,
it is trusted,
the transaction is set, to be made well and ready.
 
Cruel collectors, I suppose
are really lifelong saviours,
because they’d never harm this fortuitous bird,
never ruin its serendipitous style,
simply cash-sale and capture
for the rest of its life
the pheasants are pleased;
their new owners will soon arrive.
 
Anything can be better
than living in a box of chicken wire
rectangular sized,
tiny in style,
I guess they’d be grateful,
essentially feel rather noble
that they’d been selected
by others who plucked them away from their places 
within the cold stable.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image credit: Pixabay