Pigeons Poem by Richard Kell
Pigeons
They paddle with staccato feet
In powder-pools of sunlight,
Small blue busybodies
Strutting like fat gentlemen
With hands clasped
Under their swallowtail coats;
And, as they stump about,
Their heads like tiny hammers
Tap at imaginary nails
In non-existent walls.
Elusive ghosts of sunshine
Slither down the green gloss
Of their necks in an instant, and are gone.
Summer hangs drugged from sky to earth
In limpid fathoms of silence:
Only warm dark dimples of sound
Slide like slow bubbles
From the contented throats.
Raise a casual hand -
With one quick gust
They fountain into air.
I learnt this poem when I was about 9 years old at school and have never forgotten it. The imagery in it is perfect and is a complete description of the birds I am watching now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 9:25:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A superb poem to do with children, it is steeped in imagery and they respond to it so well.
Yes totally!