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Saturday, 16 March 2019


Sometimes I wake up with strange ideas, and today was no exception. 
I got to thinking what might be the collective noun for a group of poets to describe us, and do you know, I don't think there is one.

I was thinking something akin to:

A congress of crows
A conspiracy of ravens

(Could have used those lines in the recent  Magic Love Crow post, couldn't I?)


A flamboyance of flamingos
A pandemonium of parrots

Surely we cannot describe ourselves as:

A herd of poets
A gaggle of poets . . . lol

Any ideas?

How about a preponderance of poets . . . lol
A pandemonium of poets . . . lol

No doubt you will have some suggestions

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Now to the business of the day,

The Sunday Muse #47

Once again Carrie, thank your most interesting prompt.



Girl Bird
Image Source 

I look deeply into those bright piercing green eyes,
Framed by beauty and long green hair to match your feathered friend.
Your human form intrigues me, challenges me,
Causing me to search your into soul; probing, questioning.

I strive to make a connection to satisfy my curiosity,
Endeavouring to match any known equivalence
To contradict my narrow and limited experience.
Yet I fail, utterly, to grasp the true meaning of what I see.

You are at one, each with the other,
Knowing the others' thoughts and desires.
Words are not necessary, yet you communicate,
As if somehow the bird is an extension of your being.

Your trusty companion knows no fear,
She perches willingly upon your hand,
Awaiting conversation from your lips. 
It is almost as if she is you, and you are her.

I am confused, yet somehow I feel, in time,
Those lips may speak an answer to my curiosity.
Perhaps you strive for freedom, just like that bird
Which is only a fanciful imagination of your spirit.

Yet somehow I feel your secret will remain outside my reach for ever.
Fly high, my beauty, spread your wings and touch the sky.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Eddie Bluelights
16 March 2019

We are always looking to expand our flock, or 'preponderance'.

To reach Carrie's page, The Sunday Muse, please press HERE
with a nice sharp pencil and notepad.



  1. She's probably just wondering if she remembered to turn off the stove.

    A shipping container of creatives?

    A lazy susan of scribblers?

    A recyclable cardboard box of bards?

    1. hahaha! . . . love it, and you're probably right . . . tweet, tweet!! Down to Earth Fireblossom.
      Shay has a way with humour . . . :)
      My blue budgie used to perch on my hand like that, absolutely fearless, but my hair did not change to blue nor did I start to sprout feathers . . . :)

      Love your suggestions . . . I am looking forward to seeing what the others think.

  2. Ah, I think I have it . . . .

    A circle of poets

    A proponderance of poets sounds better though . . lol

    1. I wonder what Shakespeare would have called us . . . :)

  3. I love all your ponderimgs mixed with your poem Eddie! How about "a pound of poets are worth more than a ton of clergy" but a ponderance of poets sounds good to me to!

  4. Hi Eddie - you're so clever with your poems ... and I can't think of a collective for poets ... but some of the suggestions are fun to read ... just write on! Cheers Hilary

    1. Thanks Hilary, and thank you for your valued input . . . always great to see you . . :)

  5. That's a fun one...I love her green lashes! :)

    1. Hi Betsy, yes I enjoy writing in this circle and this post was rather fun.
      Are you going to copy the photo and give us a treat to green eye lashes? . . . lol

  6. A peck of poets! :) And now I'm going to be reciting Peter Piper all day. Enjoyed the way that you emphasized the mystery of the connection between the woman and the bird...the way looking at something doesn't reveal the entirety of it.

    1. Thanks Chrissa . . . now you have got me going on Peter Piper . . lol . . :)

  7. Beautiful, Eddie. If we could only spread our wings and touch the sky everyday. Chattering chickadee??? lol.

    1. T'would be rather nice to soar aloft amongst the clouds . . .
      Reminds me of the song, "Come fly with me" . . . :)

  8. A Troop of Wordies? I love your poem, your voice and wondering at what the young woman is thinking. Maybe it's the poet in me, but I like imaging her thoughts over knowing. Beautiful writing

    1. A Troop of Wordies . . . . lol
      Thank you, Susie for your words of encouragement. I'd love to ask her if I saw her but she is just mystical imagination . . . :)

  9. It is with such innocence caring for an unfortunate creature perhaps abandoned. Your poem Eddie rightly delve into her inner feelings of motherly instinct. Wonderful write!


  10. I love a preponderence of poets! LOL. And love your poem, especially your closing lines: fly high! We fly, we crash, we try again. Always looking at the sky.

    1. Hello, fellow 'preponderancee' . . lol
      Thank you for your kind comment. Yes, we sometimes crash but always pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and take to the air once more. Oh for a nice warm and peaceful thermal . . lol

  11. Lovely, Eddie. And I think preponderance of poets win. But I do like a pandemonium of parrots every once in a while.

    1. Thanks, Julie. Maybe a pandemonium of poets may suffice. 😂

  12. I always like to read your blog post !!


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