A Blackbird In Oxwich Wood Poem by David Wood

A Blackbird In Oxwich Wood

Rating: 4.0


I spied a blackbird with its jaunty hopping gait
Gathering twigs, then stopping, tilting its head
To one side to listen for worms in order to grate.
With its fondness of litter leaf to lay upon its bed.

It lives in the beech tree or wild sycamore
Breaking twigs with its beak which it shreds to the core.
In winter it is beauty to behold, its plumage of black feathers
And orange beak glistening in the snow and all weathers.

Its orange ringed eye is distinctive as is its beak.
It flies through the woods or forest edge with its feathers so sleek.
From the high treetops he springs to the hedgerow where he can be seen standing,
Or, sometimes glides and flicks its tail upon landing.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Oxwich Wood is on the Gower Peninsular in Swansea
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Hans Vr 14 June 2013

Beautiful, I love these birds so much.

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Patti Masterman 14 July 2013

I love the language you used here. It's perfect.

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Patricia Grantham 18 July 2013

This is very good David. I was never fond of the Blackbird or Crow the name that I knew growing up as a child. We as children always tried to shew them away. You described this bird in good details and how it survived. When I spy a Blackbird from now on I will appreciate it's beauty. Very inspiring write.

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Winter 31 May 2014

There is something very meditative about this fine poem like all the world is contracted in your keen observation of the bird and for a moment time stood still. Beautiful.

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Roseann Shawiak 07 April 2014

Beautiful imagery, so detailed, as if I am actually looking at it! Rhythm of this poem is gently soft and soothing. Loved it. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn

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Amitava Sur 31 January 2014

A lovely poem about ther black bird, it says how minutely you observed every movements of it..... loved it

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John Brown 14 October 2013

Nice poem. I like Blackbirds, as indeed I do all birds.

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Sue Ann Simar 18 July 2013

As you may have noticed, I've adopted the blackbird, the crow, the raven. I enjoyed the detail in this poem. I tend toward the abstract and so appreciated the insight that comes from the actual.

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