In the penultimate poem of our Waldszenen series, we take inspiration in part from our own environs (-:>)


Hunting Song

Perching upon a low birch branch to peer,
  we scan the shimmering stream,
five leaves float by, then the water shines clear,
  showing a stickleback gleam.

We are the King Fisher folk of these Woods,
  hunting here each every day,
turquoise and orange with royal blue hoods,
  catching our silver-scale prey.


Gauging the distance by bobbing our heads,
  we prep to drop a good dive,
plop! through the surface, a few starwort threads,
  where our fave foods tend to thrive.

We are the King Fisher folk of these Woods,
  hunting here each every day,
turquoise and orange with royal blue hoods,
  catching our silver-scale prey.


Steering a path with our wide-open wings,
  we snatch a snack in our bill,
then propel upwards through pale lily strings,
  ready to make a quick kill.

We are the King Fisher folk of these Woods,
  hunting here each every day,
turquoise and orange with royal blue hoods,
  catching our silver-scale prey.


Landing on birch branch, we clench the fish tail,
  beat the head till the fish dies,
gulp our treat keenly, blood, guts, gills and scale,
  ecstasy in our dark eyes.

We are the King Fisher folk of these Woods,
  hunting here each every day,
turquoise and orange with royal blue hoods,
  catching our silver-scale prey.




Poetry by Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 326 times
Written on 2015-11-09 at 00:33

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Amazing birds and you describe how they do it so well. It feels strange though to think that even the females are called King Fishers. I feel sure the Queen Fishers catch their share :)
2015-11-12


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
A fine poem about a remarkable bird. They're exciting to watch.
2015-11-10


countryfog
They are indeed beautiful multi-hued birds and apparently excellent anglers. They are referred to quite often in classical Chinese poems so you're following a theme that goes back more than a thousand years, and as with many of those old poems yours too is meant to be sung.
2015-11-09