“Mockingbird”

The sound of car alarms above my head,
Then card’nal calls around the lightning rod
Inspired my search for brilliant card’nal red.
I saw instead what’s beautiful and odd:
A forest full of sounds and frantic song
Escaping from a single mockingbird.
As though he meant to say, “This life’s not long
And, while it lasts, it’s often quite absurd,”
He played a crow, a robin, and a horn
And jumped between the roles at rates so fast
That moments after ev’ry sound was born
Its span of life among the clouds had passed.
He strove to share the songs he’d kept inside
Instead of hoarding them until he died.*

 

*I know that he was likely trying to attract a mate…

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“Garden Birds” Revised

We rarely used to notice common birds
Invited now into the yard to feed.
“That’s a mourning dove!”, and other words,
We pin to birds we’ve seen in guides we read.
This matching of a species with its name—
“A woodpecker! On the fence’s rail”—
Has quickly turned into a fav’rite game.
Unlike the birds confined in wiry jail,
These welcome visitors remain at ease
While hunting worms in grass, enjoying grain
The feeder holds, providing songs in trees,
And taking baths in pots that catch the rain.
These birds, who in our garden daily roam,
Are part of what has made this place a home.

an Elizabethan sonnet by Paul Burgess

“Cardinal”

Your chirping’s like a dying smoke alarm,
Your rapid calls a firing laser gun,
Yet neither threatens listeners with harm
Or gives them any cause to flee or run.

–Paul Burgess

“The Birds in our Yard” an Elizabethan Sonnet by Paul Burgess

“The Birds in our Yard” An Elizabethan Sonnet by Paul Burgess
We rarely used to notice common birds
Invited now into the yard to feed.
“That’s a mourning dove!”, and other words,
We pin to birds we’ve seen in guides we read.
This matching of a species with its name—
“A woodpecker! On the fence’s rail”—
Has quickly turned into a fav’rite game.
Unlike the birds confined in wiry jail,
These welcome visitors remain at ease
While hunting worms in grass, enjoying grain
The feeder holds, providing songs in trees,
And taking baths in pots containing rain.
These birds, who in our garden daily roam,
Are part of what has made this place a home.

5 Limericks a Day (To Keep the Dr. Away)–By Paul O’Burgess [Day 5]

“A Cruel Rejection”
I met a young girl at a dance
Who asked, “Can I get in your pants?”
But I knew they’d not fit
And she’d cause them to split,
So I said, “Oh, my dear, not a chance!”

“Unconventional Swimming Facilities”
I met once a kooky old fool
Who believed his toilet a pool.
If you ever meet him,
And he asks you to swim,
I’d advise you escape that old fool.

“Miguel the Masochist”
A man who’s residing in Spain,
Is becoming addicted to pain.
He has chains and some whips,
And he likes for his hips
To be thoroughly thrashed with a cane.

“An Innocent Limerick about Birdwatching [I had no part in naming birds!]”
In the place where he presently sits,
A boy sees him plenty of tits.
Near his seat on those rocks,
Are both boobies and cocks
And more birds that approach where he sits.

“A Prolific Man”
There once was an old man from Peru
Who had many more kids than he knew.
Some say he had four
But ‘twas likely a score…
…that prolific old man from Peru!