She turns her jewel eyes to the sun
pipping a throated song of far remote
turning this a way and that a way
God puts the breeze upon her wing
then turns the blades emerald green
abstracted by her melatin swing,
the meadow turns to sheen;
She whistle dreams a happy sway
sending oms to yesterday
Upon her wrist a young girls touch
of sweet Channel, he loved so much;
She turns her jewel eyes his way
then flutes a song of beauty
turning this a way and that a way,
as memory serves no squall a hark
of beauty joins, "The Meadow Lark"
WHAT A WONDERFUL REMINDER OF JUST ONE OF THE MANY 'FREE GIFTS'...GOD GIVES US! ENJOYED IMMENSELY AND A KEEPER. THANKS FOR SHARING, MYSTIC. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Loved the poem! Makes me want to take at least a week off and surround myself with birds that sing! God's creatures bring so much joy. Now more than ever, it's an escape from our cell phone addiction!
Such beautiful sounds emit from the Meadow Lark and other feathered creatures, within the meadow. We are very fortunate to be close enough to hear their sounds. Loved this, Mystic. Thank you.
Oh, the wonder of a summer morning in the meadow listening to the call of the Meadowlark, Bobolink or Whippoorwill. I miss those days and those sounds here in the city I wish I could hear them again.
These song lyrics and art are tales, tides and twinkling lights - tunes telling stories of warmth and sun, city and sand, paths that lead, and the coins we can keep in the Karma Bank. Spirit's been bypassed for sorrow, dreaming of a better tomorrow .
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Ron