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birds

The Twa Corbies - by Scottish anonymous

{ Poem }

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t’other say,
‘Where sall we gang and dine to-day?’

Bereavement Counselling from Murdoch of Blackbyres - by Jim Carruth

{ Poem }

Listen, back in ‘74
I shot a crow with such force
its body cannoned into its partner,
dropped the pair from the sky.

The Second Coming - by William Butler Yeats

{ Poem }

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

The Wren’s Nest - by Robert Burns

{ Poem }

The Robin cam to the wren’s nest
And keekit in and keekit in.

yellowhammer - by Thomas A. Clark

{ Poem }

Box work

Lord of All - by Gordon Meade

{ Poem }

He is the lord of all he surveys, eventhough it is not that much, less than an acre of lawn and a handful of trees. Still, he likes to keep his beady eye on things, his feathery finger on the pulse. Even if just a single sparrow stirs, he likes to know about it. You […]

excerpt from Farm by the Shore - by Thomas A. Clark

{ Poem }

small oats rye bere barley
ripe harvest in late summer
a shallow ploughing
grazing and fallow in rotation

To Margaret on a Monday - by Joan Ure

{ Poem }

I saw you from my window, Margaret.
/ I was watching the seagulls swooping the sky.
/ The seagulls, I was telling myself, know
/ today…

Still - by Eleanor Livingstone

{ Poem }

Not crow, eyes calculating
/ my speed, the distance, his time
/
/ not blackbird or thrush
/ in a startled trajectory of flight
/
/ not pigeon, undecided…

The Scribe Under the Trees - by Ian A. Olson

{ Poem }

In the trees above me
/ The blackbird sings
/ As I sit here at my table
/ With my books and my writing things.
/
/ A…

When Grey Shapes Slip the Shadows - by Ian A. Olson

{ Poem }

When grey shapes slip the shadows of the morning
/ My small birds sit in silence in the eaves
/ But daylight brings indifferent…

The Late Swallow - by Edwin Muir

{ Poem }

Leave, leave your well-loved nest,
/ Late swallow, and fly away.
/ Here is no rest
/ For hollowing heart and wearying wing.
/ Your comrades all have…

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Scottish Poetry Library
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© Scottish Poetry Library 2021.
The Scottish Poetry Library is a registered charity (No. SCO23311).
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