Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THESE FOLK OF NATURE, by LOUIS D. WEBER First Line: One morning I was slumbering in my bed Last Line: If the birds weren't here to lighten the spot. Subject(s): Friendship; Kindness; Usefullness | ||||||||
One morning I was slumbering in my bed, When I was awakened by a song sung overhead. A sturdy oak branch swaying o'er the eaves, Held the singers amid its limbs and leaves. I recognized those friends of mine, As birds gifted with voices divine; Never timid to let their voices ring, Heralding the arrival of dawn in spring. The song that carried to my ears Was the sweetest I have heard in all my years. Such song can burst only from the throats of the free, And freedom they have, as nature 'tended it to be. Then suddenly they ceased to sing. I heard the fluttering of many a wing, As they left their great and bosom friend, Who always its branches was glad to lend. These folk of nature help each other, Tenderly, like father and mother Helping each other so they might live Never a thought of the service they give. As unbelievable as it may seem, These same giant trees in mighty esteem Could not live but for these tender things That flutter about on restless wings. Of this I became aware one day As I wandered through the woods in early May. When my ears caught the sound of measured rapping, My eyes found the sourcea woodpecker tapping. Securing his meal of insects and such, He was saving a tree from a slow death clutch Nature's protector of trees was doing his part In saving the life of a sturdier heart. How kind and useful are these birds One cannot express it in mere words. Yet this world would be a dark blot If the birds weren't here to lighten the spot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OH! BE SOMETHING! by RICHARD SOLOMON GEDNEY THE POEMS OF COLD MOUNTAIN: 49 by HAN SHAN SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 94 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI A BROKEN LUTE by CLINTON SCOLLARD CONTRA MORTEM: THE LEAVES by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE NEED FOR MEN by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND SONNET DEDICATORY by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER THE SLEEPY SONG by JOSEPHINE DODGE DASKAM BACON CLOUD-CLIMBING by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: DEEDS MIGHT HAVE BEEN by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ON THE BIRTHDAY OF WASHINGTON by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |
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