Category Archives: Birds



Four swans sitting
Preening on an icy lake
Breezeless morning
Time to contemplate
Snow fallen
Finely placed
Thankful heart for
Such wondrous days
December has never
Ended this way
The year is naked
With possibilities
Here’s to what God
Next orchestrates

© Keely Myles
December 28, 2015

“The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride.” ~ Ecclesiastes 7:8


Sonnet: Big Raven


Perched on the edge is the rigid black bird,
Perceiving forests and each of the trees.
Unable to utter a single word.
Calm and motionless, despite building breeze.
Off in furthest distance dark clouds amass;
The sky opens, dropping sheets of hard rain.
Harsh winds blast, whipping through the circling grass,
Yet wall-like and true, silent songs refrain.
Standing without whispering on the hill
What would be told if telling something could?
There is no call, nor a tune, nor a trill;
Is nothing more beneath this lump of wood?
A story wise behind image graven?
Strong voice flies from unfeathered, Big Raven.

© Keely Myles
May 12, 2015

Big Raven, Emily Carr 1931


Dusk ’til Dawn


I do not oft sleep easy,
But oft I hear the frogs
Lift songs welcoming the dusk.

I do not oft sleep easy,
But oft I feel the Lord
Of Comfort’s present touch.

I do not oft sleep easy,
But oft I hear the birds
Whisper first words to the dawn.

I do not oft sleep easy,
But oft I know the peace
That He’s there when I’m alone.

© Keely Myles
April 28, 2015
Psalm 121

Final Flight


I got lost
In a four-poster bed
And while I
Rested wept and watched
The oceans long fingers
Play music along the shore
I noticed a single feather
Twitching clinging sticky
To the window
And I knew
Some little one
Had died
I went outside
Made a circumference
Of the house
And sure as
The sky was blue
A darkened junco
Laid legs up
Eyes closed
Stiff upon the
Frozen ground
So I did the thing
That seemed best
I picked him up
dark feathered head
With my leathered hands
And made my way down
To where I still
Heard music
And let his final flight
Be a part of
The bluest symphony

© Keely Myles
November 2014

Warm Awakening


From budding tree
To fresh trimmed bush,
The little birds
Flit and cheep.
Hopping quick
Across the bricks
To snatch tidbits
Fallen at the feet.
Across the street
In the square,
Children scream
With joy at Grandpa Bear.
The sky is clear,
Cool, crisp with spring,
And overhead
Honking geese take wing.
The collared doves
Atop lampposts
Are cooing warmly
As sunshine
Wakes the coast.

© Keely Myles, March 3, 2015