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This Poem was Submitted By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-11-09 17:46:55 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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When Birdsong Colors The Air

A pair of mockingbirds nests in a japonica Shrub near my bedroom window. Long known For their ability to duplicate the exact Notes of other birds, both react to my Morning whistles as if I were Toscanini And just tapped my baton. I've not been Able to determine a pattern of their singing Except one certain event each month. The brilliance of a full-moon night leads To a serenade, always from the same perch In a nearby ash tree. Those evenings lush With moon-struck glory elate and elevate. The bird's throat and breast throb as he sings And after each series of notes, he hops. Sing, Hop, whistle, hop, croon to the moon, hip-hop. Perfect cadence of sound and motion, a show Of delight. Comes dawn, the pair peeks out the Leaves and with flickers of white-streaked Tails, they sweep past then out of sight. Yet Another day for mimetic play, for mimicry And to flavor the air with arrays of melody.

Additional Notes:
For our bird watcher, Aviary Emeritus.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2004-12-07 19:11:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.82051
Hi Dear Mell, This is another really wonderful of your poems. You are really a talented lady. I literally heard the birds sing..with your cadence...thank you. I love birds! The big ones scare me. and flocks have a lot of power.[maybe from the movie] I had a feeder by my bedroom door and a big woodpecker came and hung from the eaves eating, then was strutting around on the deck/too close for my comfort! I think mocking birds are big too? What a nice interlude in winter. I wish I'd reviewed this quicker/I LIKE IT AS WELL AS BLUE. Think sunshine and we'll survive the winter. I hope the prayers are working.' happy holidays! Love Dellena

This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2004-12-05 15:07:05
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Heh, Mell, I never seem to get your poems on my list! This one is near the bottom but at least it's there for me to find and enjoy. The Toscanini reference means a lot to me. Ever since I was very small, I've been drawn to his style of conducting and to the recordings he made. My parents used to play classical music for me even in very early childhood, and I suspect there might still be a few old Toscanini 78s around somewhere. Your mockingbird pair seems attuned to you, perhaps even directed by your own will, like attendant spirits. But then again, why not? After Mom passed away, there appeared to be a lot of little coincidences that, taken together, offered messages connected with her. Finally, I ended up bidding on a psychic reading from ebay - believe it or not! To add to this, the reading was extremely specific to my father and great-unlce, both of whom conveyed details that would have been very hard to guess at. When I finished reading the email containing this information, I sat at the dining-room table for a quick snack before driving into town on an estate-related errand ... and a little finch flew right into the window glass! It was stunned, so I had to rescue it from the ground and carry it to the edge of my woods, away from threat of potential cats. It fluttered to a branch and literally stared at me one-on-one the whole time I was walking away. It stayed there for a long time, just sitting. It showed no fear when I picked it up and didn't try to bite my hand. But I digress ... The brilliance of a full-moon night leads To a serenade, always from the same perch In a nearby ash tree. Those evenings lush With moon-struck glory elate and elevate. ... You're at the top of your form with the internal rhyme and striking enjambment all through this piece. How amazing! Again, these sound like more than mere birds. Perhaps they are meant to be with you, and to give you joy during your battle with illness. "Elate and elevate", indeed - both body and soul. Even the ash tree, which is a tree long known for its sacred associations, seems a fitting concert stage for them. The bird's throat and breast throb as he sings ... Do the females ever sing too, or only the males? I've And after each series of notes, he hops. Sing, not noticed; there are no mockingbirds 'way out here! Hop, whistle, hop, croon to the moon, hip-hop. You've just given a whole new meaning to the "hip-hop" genre!! That makes me chuckle. There's a strong cadence in the last two lines here, kind of a bouncy beat, really apropos. The lines describe a fairly complex sequence of actions on the bird's part. "Perfect cadence of sound and motion, a show/Of delight." This suggests an awareness of their own roles. I believe that birds do take pleasure in what they do, and that mockers are especially intelligent on an avian scale - a "10" score. Their "mimetic play" seems to be drawn from the universe around them. Their aptly-named "arrays of melody" seem to be gifts that arne't random but rather, conferred by some larger design. You, being their human companion, thus are intended to share in these things with them. What a lyrical and uplifting poem. It creates within the reader the same elevation that the birds' performances create in the poet. Thus it establishes are sort of symbioticc relationship among the three. This is kind of a ramble but I wanted to let you know how very much I appreciate this piece. My Best Always, Brenda

This Poem was Critiqued By: Brandon Gene Petit On Date: 2004-12-03 16:12:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
A warm and welcome work of art......I liek your tittle and word choices here....."...as if I tapped my baton" "....colors the air" "croon to the moon" "moon-struck glory" "flickers of white-streaked tails" all very artistic and rich in imagery/meaning. Glad to read your poem....keep up the good work - Brandon

This Poem was Critiqued By: Erzahl Leo M. Espino On Date: 2004-11-29 20:31:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Mell, Wow, wow, wow Mell! This is color and music in words! Just amazing! I’m glad that I took time to sit and read the November entries, and my…I missed those beautiful poetries submitted by fellow poets. And your work here says a lot when it comes to “BEAUTY”. It’s a real treasure to find! From the title itself “When Birdsong Colors The Air”, it’s already refreshing and singing of “LIFE”. I could not pinpoint stanza by stanza because these are all BEAUTIFUL. From beginning to end, the tune is continuous. Your words are comprehensive, you use exact descriptions that are enjoyable to imagine. Your words are simple yet when they are all combined – they are orchestrated in brilliant symphony. I don’t know how you do it, there are a lot of poets who can turn a simple picture into an unforgettable scene…and you are one of those great poets that I admired and would like to follow. Thank you for your words of inspirations. I like how you use the words “japonica” and “Toscanini” that adds exotic variety on your work here. “Morning whistles as if I were Toscanini And just tapped my baton.” --- Both outstanding and funny! What a combination! “The bird's throat and breast throb as he sings And after each series of notes, he hops. Sing, Hop, whistle, hop, croon to the moon, hip-hop. Perfect cadence of sound and motion, a show Of delight.” --- I really enjoyed this most (and a lot)! You captured the image so perfectly! --- Smiles are in my face upon reading this! “Yet Another day for mimetic play, for mimicry And to flavor the air with arrays of melody.” --- Wonderful! Unforgettable summation! I’ll never get tired reading this again and again…for your work brings HOPE in many ways. You have given LIFE to this life. You taught us to appreciate the beauty in simple things. You opened our eyes to the blessings of nature. You opened our ears to the humming of “friends” – FRIENDS OF NATURE. Timeless! Reading your works is never a wasted one…instead I’m deeply honored. Thank you! No doubt, again your work here will reach the top! Keep it UP UP UP! In awe, Erzahl :)

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2004-11-13 13:49:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80000
Mell, you begin, and capture any of us who know the Mockingbird chatter. Then you give insufficient information as to the type of japonica bush that graces your window. I prefer to see it as sort of wild looking with bright yellow flowers, it is, of course, of no consequence. Now, hearing you whistling would be great fun in itself, but hearing the mockingbirds duplicating it would be worth a cup of green tea or black coffee. To hear them attempt to mimic Toscanini would be an absolute delight, but once again, you leave me with too little information, what was Toscanini conducting that brought you to whistling? I guess it doesn't really matter, 'cept to me. An Ash Tree is one of the most neglected in poetic circles. I always envision the white ash when people speak of it, and I can see the sunlight hitting the dark green leaves (unless of course this piece was written during the fall), and you, egging on the Mockingbirds. It also brings to light the magical aspects of the ash tree and it's historical significance to the gods. A wonderful sight. Although the mockingbird does bob at times, the "hip-hop" symbolism takes a little getting used to. I do not believe I have ever seen anyone us "mimetic" before, so kudos to making my education complete. Finally you leave me with wonder “And to flavor the air with arrays of melody” Ah, a fine piece Mell, a worthwhile time for many a reread and good feelings. Thanks so much for sharing it.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-11-12 05:16:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mell--Surely you are feeling much better, IMO, it can be readily seen in your expanded reviews and newly creative posts. This recent offering is a marvelous relating of a de- tailed observation of a pair of facinating and impish mockingbirds. These chatterboxs never seem to stop chirping or flitting. Your descriptive account succinctly captures their activities which may infer the couple share more than a casual and entertaining relationship with you (I would be suprised if you haven't given them names-smile). What could possibly explain some of the reasons they keep returning to the sanctuary of your yard (enjambement from 2nd stanza-lines 2 thru 4 and the entirety of stanza #3)? Thanks for inspiring us all. TLW P.S. from "Coign of Vantage:" Your effect on my poetry life is indescribable. You will not see many pieces from my pen since 11/03 that you've not influence in some way. Thanks too many-TLW

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-11-09 20:25:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Mell-ifluent Hyblaean Excellency: I couldn't be more astonished and delighted if the Moon herself had come knocking on my window, beckoning me out to view this birdly pair on her night of greatest visibility. There are many salubrious effects of listening to the sounds of nature; but the stimulation of the poetic brain cells, of the poet's refined ability to express what delights the heart must surely be one of the finest. Did you know that 2000 mockingbirds: two kilomockingbirds? I'm sorry - the kind of giddy delirium I feel when reading this poem and most especially your additional notes makes me recklessly happy. A pair of mockingbirds nests in a japonica Shrub near my bedroom window. Long known For their ability to duplicate the exact Notes of other birds, both react to my Sorry for squeezing in here like this - it feels as if I am interrupting. But the mockingbird has been associated with the sign Gemini, known for its facility for mimicry. And Gemini has to do with 'pairs' of things, and is considered the astrological sign most affiliated with avians. Oddly enough, I'm a Gemini. On another note, the mockingbird is the avian equivalent of a plagiarist, you show us here. But the mockingbird's talent seems one one facet of their charm and character, as you show us in the stanza below: Morning whistles as if I were Toscanini And just tapped my baton. I've not been Able to determine a pattern of their singing Except one certain event each month. Never knew that you whistled, so now must add this to the repertoire I have mentally constructed for you. Immediately upon doing this, I see Toscannini's white locks fanning out from a Texan woman's face. This won't do! I see you tapping your baton, and can hear it distinctly. It would be a completely uncanny experience to have a bird of any species duplicating one's human whistling. "Toscanini/singing" make music together. The brilliance of a full-moon night leads To a serenade, always from the same perch In a nearby ash tree. Those evenings lush With moon-struck glory elate and elevate. Your lunar serenade in poetic form is symphonic. Why would the bird(s) be stimulated to sing at night, I wonder. What is it in the bird's nature that responds to the full-moon? I think I see a parallel here -- your whistling, Toscanini's conducting: full-moon, sunrise. The light and sounds to celebrate. Naturally I am dazzled by "serenade/elate/elevate" and cannot resist comment on your splendiferous assonance here. The "nearby ash tree" elicits things Celtic for me, for in their mythology an ash tree is known to be the tree of enchantment, and the magician Gwydion fashioned his wands from ash wood. Are the birds singing from within the branches of a tree of enchantment? It would seem that these birds are both 'real' and enchanted/ing, for their spell upon the reader/poet is engulfing. The bird's throat and breast throb as he sings And after each series of notes, he hops. Sing, Hop, whistle, hop, croon to the moon, hip-hop. Here I really am interrupting the dance to comment that I am exhilarated by these sounds and visual images. The cadence of "throat/throb", "notes/hops", "sing/hop/whistle/hop/croon to the moon/hip-hop" give me a euphoria that is superior to nitrous oxide, good wine -- parallel with the lift I get from the first tree frogs of spring. You've sent me on a 'legal high' here which is difficult to describe. Perfect cadence of sound and motion, a show Of delight. Comes dawn, the pair peeks out the Leaves and with flickers of white-streaked (elicits the image of Toscanini's hair again) Tails, they sweep past then out of sight. Yet Another day for mimetic play, for mimicry And to flavor the air with arrays of melody. You've 'made light' of an experience in such a way that only you can do. You have literally created a universe on the screen, in which intense grace enlightens each line. The 'play' of sound and light, movement and imagery here has made me drunk without a drop of liquid taken in. The mercurial disappearance of the birds, and their numinous effects are truly wondrous. You have enthralled me once again with your poetic gifts. The 'flavor' of the piece is ambrosial. Extending a purple cornflower, with painted-lady butterfly. And an album of Toscanini conducting Beethoven's EROICA. My hero. Standing ovation (softly, not to frighten any nightbirds listening) Joanne

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-11-09 19:10:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mell, I decided to check TPL one more time before I sign off and low and behold there was a poem from you! I probably can't capture all the wonderful words and images that you have packed into five stanzas but will try. You had me with one word in the first line and that is mockingbirds..I knew I was in for a treat. I can almost see the pair of them sitting in their nest...perhaps just waiting for your morning whistle...'both react to my morning whistles as if I were Toscanini and just tapped my baton'..what a great line. ...'the brilliance of a full-moon night leads to a seranade, always from the same perch in a near by ash tree'....'lush with moon-struck glory elate and elevate'..I love the softness of this line and I can tell you look forward to the feeling I am getting from your descriptive words. The fourth stanza (I have decided) is my favorite...if I had to pick one and thank heavens I don't. You have the ability to actually add music to your words giving them perfect cadence....hip hop..whistle hop..croon to the moon.. hip hop... ..a show of delight'...yes it is and I am there with you now watching out your window hoping to get a glimpse of these wonderful birds. But more than that I want to hear them sing their song just as you have written it here...hip hop..as I tap my foot. then comes the dawn and the two of them peek out of the leaves...lovely...magical these birds are. What a treat you have given me today with your talent and ability to weave magical poetry out of almost anything you see or hear...what a gift. TPL shold be grateful that you share that gift with us and, in my case, mentor the ones who long to soak it up. I am always happy to see your name as that makes me think you are feeling better and nothing could be more wonderful than that. Blessings.... Marilyn

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2004-11-09 18:02:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
I may not be a bird watcher, but I used to sit on my lanani in Hawaii and watch these wonderful creatures flicker, and move with surety to a beat you replicate so well in this poem, it has a certaintain murical aware neness and brings out the charactertics of this oh so lovery bird. It's pretty similar ability you demonstrate in describing these creatures, it's a well written poem, and I really enjoyed reading it. My best Mell, may you be well, and keep us entranced in your ability to captivitate....Love Jo

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