Poem for Hour Thirteen (13/24)

Mr. Barn Owl’s home was a bore,

So he went to the motorhome store,

Saw a brand new one and bought it,

And exclaimed when he got it,

“Guess I’m a barn owl no more!”

Poem for Hour Twelve (12/24)

Ostentatious sulphur-crested king sporting gilded crown and mischievous smile,

Cockatoos in different hues.

Eastern spinebill curving beak, straw-necked ibis shimmering like oil on water,

An iridescent rainbow of color. Brolga tall and pale stand still like Pacific herons in wetlands and

Near damp retreats.

In scattered pockets, beach thick-knee walks and whistles, cassowaries comb the boardwalk,

Adept dancers, twelve-wire birds of paradise steal the show.

Poem for Hour Eleven (11/24)

Easily spot a common buzzard, hover above stretches of farmland,

Under the chin of a bluethroat glints complimentary stripes,

Red-backed shrikes,

Overcoat of snow on the landscape makes ravens contrast like ink blots,

Peachy strokes flashing about the trees, fieldfare, mute swan and great crested grebe float with

Ease.

 

Poem for Hour Ten (10/24)

A great, soft, alabaster egg with pink face and stocky legs,

Northern-giant petrels following ships, bold beak into frigid wind.

Teeming with seabirds,

Antarctic Tern, diving, kelp gull, snatching,

Rough pebble nests fascilliate planned hatching of

Chinstrap penguins! A visual delight to behold!

The style and poise of a macaroni penguin, skeptical-looking and

Indignant.

Cape petrel’s cookies and cream coloring make it

A welcome sight.

Poem for Hour Nine (9/24)

A most incredible sight, like glimmering sapphire in dire need of protection, the Southeast Asian Pitta

Shines in the sunlight.

Indescribable beauty in pheasants and darters alike, myna birds, and graceful herons,

Angelic little egret and electric-blue-winged kingfishers.

Poem for Hour Eight (8/24)

Accented by sunshine yellow, a long-legged fellow known as white-headed lapwing resides.

Fairly reclusive and favoring cattails the stunning and musical African Rail, wades carefully into the open,

Ready to join the best-dressed club run by those like Livingstone’s Turaco,

In stunning green and scarlet, with cap so vivid, yet all bow down to the grey-crowned

Crane, king of spectacular sights. The killer queen, secretary bird,

Allows no dangerous snake to even put up a fight.

Poem for Hour Seven (7/24)

Stunning sword-billed hummingbirds perfectly suited to forests from which it hails,

Obviously macaws soar like colorful kites through tropical air

Up above flame-faced tanagers, singing in the canopy, happily,

Take a gander at upland geese if you please, but back under the trees,

Holographic, looks intact with mesmerizing green plumage, green ibis shies

Amidst leaves and hides,

Magellanic oystercatcher with

Eyes intense,

Rides

In between water and sky, on

Currents of air which hold it aloft, and throw its distinct whistled voice against shorelines and

Across.

Poem for Hour Six (6/24)

Normally people are blind to avian presence,

Ordinarily chalked up to “Well, see, there’s no interesting birds around me,”

Really?

Then I guess you didn’t see the whistling duck whose breath was stuck, captured,

Hung in midair, by photographers who spent hours lying there, just to get the shot.

Atlantic puffins, silhouetted against sunbathed rocks, to say naught about,

Meadowlarks, stark and yellow.

Everyone takes crows for granted, common, yes, but grand, these things should be taught about,

Recent research tells us these survivors can solve for specific solutions with superior

Intellect.

Canada geese forming perfect V’s,

All throughout those short winter months.

Poem for Hour Five (5/24)

Kyow, Kii-ow,

Gull, she sings the sea,

Coo-ah, coo, coo, coo,

Dove, cries her woes to me.

 

Seeadit, chew-chew,

House Sparrow chatters through the day,

Wheeeeer, wheet!

House Finch argues with quite a lot to say.

 

Pelican doesn’t say much, but wings beat with a

Thwap thwap thwap thwap,

And the Mallard that shares her home gives a,

Rasping kreeeep, quack!

 

What’s that sound like sci-fi guns? Hummingbird’s

Chiiick, chee-chee-chee-chee,

And though I’ve never heard one yet, I’d love to hear a

Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!