The Starlings Have to be Fed!

The Starlings Have to be Fed!

A Poem by David Lewis Paget

He’d go to the Square each afternoon

And sit on a bench, near me,

The one that stood in the shaded gloom

Of a brooding maple tree,

He’d roll his brolly and doff his hat

And scatter his bits of bread,

Then when the Keeper would tut, he’d say,

‘The Starlings have to be fed!’

 

He’d watch them come in a darkening cloud

And scare the sparrows away,

Then sit and listen to what had risen

At this loose end of the day.

He’d sit and nod, and he’d take it in

As if he could understand,

This Starling patter that passed as chatter

Concerning the world of man.

 

I never once saw him take a note

Or even record the sound,

He didn’t acknowledge the presence there

Of anyone else around,

He totally focussed on what they’d say

And c**k his ear to their cries,

Then nod and smile in the strangest way

And shake his head at their lies.

 

Then after dark he would walk the park

And head for the studio,

That one dim lamp on the outer wall

Would show him the way to go,

And once inside you would hear him slide

On up to the microphone,

Where he’d tell his tales of success and fails

In a drawn-out monotone.

 

But you never felt a part of the tale

You were always shut outside,

Peering in from a ledge or bin

With a window open wide,

Then sometimes you were looking down

On the action from on high,

It could be from the bough of a tree

Or a wing in the azure sky.

 

He must have muttered a thousand tales

Of brooding, joy and despair,

The type of roles that would feed the souls

Of the folk who listened there.

They were light as vim, they were dark and grim

They were sown like seeds in the night,

And at the end, a beating of wings

As a bevy of birds took flight.

 

He entertains through the winter months

With a new tale every eve,

But stops as soon as the Spring comes in,

As the Starlings begin to leave.

They all return to their northern climes

With their tales to their Viking den,

While he will wait on the same park bench

For the winter to come again.

 

David Lewis Paget


© 2015 David Lewis Paget



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Featured Review

Interesting. For some reason, this feels like it’s about the souls in Valhalla. They are the starlings and the man on the park bench must be Odin. I don’t know why it struck me that way, but he last few lines seemed to validate my perspective. :D

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

A very visual poem/prose...I could see him walking the park as he scattered his bits of bread...well written David.

Posted 2 Years Ago


Interesting. For some reason, this feels like it’s about the souls in Valhalla. They are the starlings and the man on the park bench must be Odin. I don’t know why it struck me that way, but he last few lines seemed to validate my perspective. :D

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is a beautiful and cute poem. I like the mention of the Starlings, they are so adorable! :D

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

There is a glory in every simple act of kindness and bonding between living things. There is a story that need to be told. All it takes is an eye like yours.

Posted 2 Years Ago


I felt I was there David probably because walking parks you see these images often. A great write of impeccable perfection!

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Beautiful story within your poem.Thank you for sharing and it was very visual.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Typically, I am not a poetry buff. I have tried my hand at it, found it cheesy and just not my thing. Also, I have read MANY poems that rub me wrong. Either the meter makes no sense to me, or the stanzas feel disorganized. There are very few poems and poets who strike a chord with me. This poem is one of them. Simplicity is the essence of the beauty in your piece. You take a subject that on the outside is almost mundane. It is common place and we often overlook such things. Then you dissect it in the most eloquent way. What came to mind was the song in Mary Poppins, "Feed the birds, tuppence a bag.....". That song has always pulled at my heart strings just as your poem has now. Thank you for sharing it.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I like it. I learn a lot about imagery. I enjoyed with it. Thank you for sharing this wonderful poem.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is fantastic. The imagery, really drew me in. Very engrossing and delightful tale. It reminds me of a saying "go tell it to the birds" and apparently, they lie. Haha that line made me laugh"he nods and smiles and shakes his head at their lies" wise words to live by.
There is so much depth to this amazing piece and it was truly a joy to read.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

'Man cannot live on bread alone...' and nor, it would seem can the birds, David. Communication is the key to life - it is vital to mating thus it enables survival - it sustains us; its removal can make a person mad - mad enough to believe they can talk to the birds and yet who is to say it isnt possible. I talked to a dog for 14 years and I believe he talked back in his own way.

The songs 'Old Friends' and 'Nowhere Man' came to mind as I read this one but the overall impresssion was one of loneliness. A sad yet endearing piece DLP. Thank you for posting this one.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on April 28, 2015
Last Updated on April 28, 2015
Tags: chatter, birds, studio, listen

Author

David Lewis Paget
David Lewis Paget

Moonta, South Australia, Australia



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