The Pigeon Whisperer Poem

More about The Pigeon Whisperer Poem

On a park bench old and gray,
An old man sat every day,
Feeding pigeons with a smile,
Making their hearts sing for a while.
With crumbs and seeds in his hand,
He scattered them across the land,
Pigeons gathered near his feet,
In a dance so graceful and sweet.
Their wings fluttered, feathers flew,
As they cooed and pecked, they knew,
The old man was their trusted friend,
Whose love for them would never end.
He listened to their gentle coo,
And shared his stories with them too,
Tales of life and love so grand,
As they gathered close, a feathered band.
For years he sat on that bench so bright,
Bathed in warm sunlight's golden light,
Feeding pigeons, his heart content,
A friendship that was truly heaven-sent.
And when his time had come to go,
The pigeons gathered in a row,
To say goodbye to their dear old friend,
Whose love for them would never end.
Now, on that bench, they still come by,
Gathered close, under the sky,
Remembering the old man's grace,
As they coo and flutter in that same place.