The birds’ shrill fluting
Beats on the pink blind,
Pierces the pink blind
At whose edge fumble the sun’s
Fingers till one obtrudes
And stirs the thick motes.
The room is a close box of pink warmth.
The minutes click.
A man picks across the street
With a metal-pointed stick.
Three clocks drop each twelve pennies
On the drom of noon.
The birds end.
A child’s cry pricks the hush.
The wind plucks at a leaf.
The birds rebegin.

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A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

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Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: Epitaph For James Smith: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Farewell To Ballochmyle: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Young Peggy Blooms: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Second Epistle to Davie: A Brother Poet by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Masonic Song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Lines On Meeting With Lord Daer: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To The Toothache: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Farewell Song To The Banks Of Ayr: “I composed this song as I conveyed my chest so far on my road to Greenock, where I was to embark in a few days for Jamaica. I meant it as my farewell dirge to my native land.”-R. B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: O Thou Dread Power: Lying at a reverend friend’s house one night, the author left the following verses in the room where he slept:- by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram On Rough Roads: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Fragment Of Song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Brigs Of Ayr: Inscribed to John Ballantine, Esq., Ayr. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Reply To A Trimming Epistle Received From A Tailor: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Willie Chalmers: Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:- by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Nature’s Law – A Poem: Humbly inscribed to Gavin Hamilton, Esq. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Calf: To the Rev. James Steven, on his text, Malachi, ch. iv. vers. 2. “And ye shall go forth, and grow up, as Calves of the stall.” by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Thomson’s Edward and Eleanora.: by Robert Burns

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