Song of the Meadow Lark
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"
Jan 22, 2019
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2019
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