Migrating Poems - Poems about Migrating

autumn's palette dawning morning fight ride golden sun rays' flaxen horizon heaven bound migrating birds V formation tranquil redolence fragrance dance among tender watercolor jewels as their voices echo 3-3-2024...

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Monarch Butterflies start off as a cocoon, then they come out into beautiful butterflies. The Lovely monarchs started migrating, then one nice bright day, they disappeared Now they're gone. On cold Sunny day, the beautiful Monarch Butterflies Came back from migrating, oh, what a beautiful sight To see clusters of monarch butterflies...

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Perhaps immigration is our big US national anxiety because we don't know how to unilaterally abort cancerous growth of matricide. Too much to even think about at a merely nationalistic level of ecocidal unconsciousness. Earth is our shared sacred home which has begun feeling like a dried out grass and forest burning tornado churning anthro-supremacist housefire. No Trespassing micro-aggression signs of defensive desire and cutting-edge lethal spirals of kill...

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Ecstatic, electrifying, exhilaration ignites inside, Inspiring my soul to capture the hope, Songs echoing on the coast where there is light, Silent light tossing, trembling, tempting my thoughts, Into the night where pieces of my heart reflect the music Playing in the waves, blending with the sea in stardust dreams, Awakening the need for the hurling of my past, Away from these...

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I have entrusted my verses to migrating birds, Their wings carry my words across vast miles. Last winter, they faltered on their journey to you, My cherished avian companions met a grim fate, Innocent lives claimed by ruthless hunters. Yet, my friends bequeathed my verses to the wind, And the breeze bore them toward your distant abode. You, in your solitude, sensed...

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MIGRATING Juana and I sit on the fence, swing our legs, throw seeds for birds, check nests for eggs. Juana, like the migrating bird that traveled mile upon mile, is here now too, but I hope she stays longer than the bird that flew....

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THERE ARE MANY THINGS I'D SURE LIKE TO KNOW. BECAUSE CURIOSITY CONTINUALLY GROWS DO MIGRATING BIRDS HAVE GPS ? OR IS THEIR SENSE OF DIRECTION SIMPLY THE BEST. INTUITION OR INSTINCT HOW DO THEY KNOW.? OF ALL THE DIRECTIONS WHICH WAY TO GO? MIGRATION TAKES PLACE WE KNOW THERE'S A REASON. BUT HOW CAN THEY TELL IT'S TIME OR THAT SEASON.? THEY ARRIVE EVERY YEAR. ON THE VERY SAME...

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Migrating to America In the age of Aquarius Envisioning the best from the Land of opportunity where it’s been said Streets are paved in gold Everyone has a white picket fence and A Chevrolet too The corner hop served burgers and fries Soda fountains and milkshakes at the Five and Dime Teens danced the twist and the mash potato On American Bandstand And kids played...

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In early spring’s afterglow Egrets head north as winds row; Dwelling on lattice of plains And coo warble mild refrains-- How migrant journey stirs on When April wakes with delight Until lull of morn is done-- A homecoming … our birds' rite ! Eight Lines Contest of Joseph May 5/31/2018 7 syls per line via www.howmanysyllables.com...

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I descend from Prussian tradition full of frozen rain and fire’s marches Lagoons and marshes my father and history know about the Baltic Sea where ...

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nociception of pain indigenous spirituality theism ego structure inevitable consequence of the painful separation sun is moving across the sky thunder roars faint lightning mediators of inflamed passion universal need for consolation neurotic repression expectation for non existing worry is imagination our interpretation knowledge and wisdom are limited intensifying rain drops are real we are migrating to east...

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Bonuses have shrunk.  Two ambitions now remain: make Board or expat. Sun-kissed and well-fed  migrating birds, time to time  reminisce of home.  Open foreign minds, gated local dwellings, home sick capital.  More money; less tax.  Lost abandoned ambition repatriated.   Mike Concise © 2015 www.mikeconcise.com...

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‘Davo’ rang me up, ‘bout a month ago, To travel with him on a trip, Way up north to Glenora station, So he can search through Harry’s tip. ‘Davo’ you see has a hobby, Collecting bottles, some worth more than gold, And he reckons the tip at Glenora, Would be more than a hundred years old. When we reached the station at...

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Bereft of warmth and succoring provender But girded with the fortitude providence doth tender Internal compass the charted course doth render Steeled to navigate rough skies with built-in aerometer Dislodged flocks flying south for winter A winged armada pushing through shearing blender Swirling masts soar into celestial splendor In gallant ranks parade o'er corroding timber In tight formations to withstand every passing rigor Skirting...

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The Migrating Mistress it started in September those words he'd heard before oh! how much I love you but I need something more the sad song of the sparrow searching for a distant shore he watched as she was leaving till she left his sight fell face first in his hands and cried clear though the night but with time and consolation the darkness turned to light but...

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