Quotes about swoop, page 5
The Cranes of Ibicus
Here was a man who watched the river flow
Past the huge town, one gray November day.
Round him in narrow high-piled streets at play
The boys made merry as they saw him go,
Murmuring half-loud, with eyes upon the stream,
The immortal screed he held within his hand.
For he was walking in an April land
With Faust and Helen. Shadowy as a dream
Was the prose-world, the river and the town.
Wild joy possessed him; through enchanted skies
He saw the cranes of Ibycus swoop down.
He closed the page, he lifted up his eyes,
Lo--a black line of birds in wavering thread
Bore him the greetings of the deathless dead!
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Birds of Prey
Their shadow dims the sunshine of our day,
As they go lumbering across the sky,
Squawking in joy of feeling safe on high,
Beating their heavy wings of owlish gray.
They scare the singing birds of earth away
As, greed-impelled, they circle threateningly,
Watching the toilers with malignant eye,
From their exclusive haven--birds of prey.
They swoop down for the spoil in certain might,
And fasten in our bleeding flesh their claws.
They beat us to surrender weak with fright,
And tugging and tearing without let or pause,
They flap their hideous wings in grim delight,
And stuff our gory hearts into their maws.
poem by Claude McKay
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Sonnet: the Human Heart
Oh Fie! The human heart within me lodged
That craves for earthly love without an end;
No matter how much it got, it feels caged;
It loves to swoop like a free bird and bend.
My heart endlessly searches for more love!
Love that is human and never divine;
And knowingly, it moves on like a Dove
In search of newer meadows and sunshine.
And when I do get it all, yet my heart
Dissatisfied becomes in a short time;
Looking for newer love’s display and art,
That can never make my life more sublime.
Oh Fie! The human heart within me lodged;
Its earthly desires can’t be resolved.
2-8-2000 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Tonight...Why Ever Not!
Tonight....im gunna fly
Circumnavigate the globe
And swoon and swoop
Dip and dive
Smiling
Thriving, untethered
My rebellious boots shall kick dust
As i must
Scream....
My feathers shall ruffle breezes
My thoughts shall tussle teases
Why ever not!
I shall free fall thermals with eagles
Cross mountains un planed by mans
Course hand
I shall perch upon a Buddhist temple and gaze
Just gaze pon the domain
Of natures remains
[...] Read more
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Red Hawks
Red hawks dive and swoop and soar
High above me-Could I ask for more?
I envy their majestic wings
Their view encompassing everything!
The sky is their domain no doubt
With sunlit clouds and wind about
Circling for prey with greedy eyes
Danger and beauty combined in the skies
Marvelous curiosity fills my mind with awe
Such willful defiance of gravity I never saw!
Godly miracle, the slotted wing
Unstable air to it, a minor thing
I declare these birds the Kings of Flight
Intelligent and regal in my sight
Watch them yourself and you'll believe
Seeing you there, your heart will sing
[...] Read more
poem by Sara Fielder
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Fallen Leaves
Why should I be the first to fall
Of all the leaves on this old tree?
Though sadly soon I know that all
Will lose their hold and follow me.
While my birth-brothers bravely blow,
Why should I be first to go?
Why should I be the last to cling
Of all the leaves on this bleak bough?
I've fluttered since the fire of Spring
And I am worn and withered now.
I would escape the Winter gale
And sleep soft-silvered by a snail.
When swoop the legions of the snow
To pitch their tents in roaring weather
We fallen leaves will lie below
And rot rejoicingly together;
And from our rich and dark decay
Will laugh our brothers of the May.
poem by Robert William Service
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Despair
Thy wings swoop darkening round my soul, Despair!
And on my brain thy shadow seems to brood
And hem me round with stifling solitude,
With chasms of vacuous bloom which are thy lair.
No light of human joy, no song or prayer,
Breaks ever on this chaos, all imbrued
With heart's-blood trickling from the multitude
Of sweet hopes slain, or agonising there.
Lo, wilt thou yield thyself to grief, and roll
Vanquished from thy high seat, imperial brain,
And abdicating turbulent life's control,
Be dragged a captive bound in sorrow's chain?
Nay! though my heart is breaking with its pain,
No pain on earth has power to crush my soul.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Hummingbird
Hummingbird! keep on humming your wings,
With lavender feathered wings hover in wind.
Nectar of sweet petals sweeten your hymn,
Just in half syllables, is your chirping chime.
On a tree near brook, sitting in the serenity
You sigh for your mate, one who is celebrity.
You see his show of swoop before resonating
affirmation of acceptance for your mating.
Our contract is for this spring and not forever
I know little creature this is what you whisper.
In architected nest two pretty pearls are laid;
In three months, have to become hummingbird.
Mate of mankind, you are the love teacher.
Perhaps they gave idea of the helicopter.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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A Mountain Spring
Peace hath an altar there. The sounding feet
Of thunder and the wildering wings of rain
Against fire-rifted summits flash and beat,
And through grey upper gorges swoop and strain;
But round that hallowed mountain-spring remain,
Year after year, the days of tender heat,
And gracious nights whose lips with flowers are sweet,
And filtered lights, and lutes of soft refrain.
A still, bright pool. To men I may not tell
The secrets that its heart of water knows,
The story of a loved and lost repose;
Yet this I say to cliff and close-leaved dell:
A fitful spirit haunts yon limpid well,
Whose likeness is the faithless face of Rose.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Sonnet: Why Blame?
Why blame the eagle for its swoop on mice?
Why blame the tiger for hunting its prey?
Why blame the drug-peddler for playing dice?
Why blame the donkey when it can but bray?
Why blame the wind that makes the branches sway?
Why blame the snake for its poison-fangs?
Why blame the sun for a hot summer’s day?
Why blame the police for the thieving gangs?
Why blame the night for being dark and cold?
Why blame the devils when they will tempt man?
Why blame our fate when we are getting old?
Why blame the Maker for how Man began?
Why blame the circumstances for our sins?
Why blame the tongue, whenever our words mince?
7-30-2002
poem by John Celes
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