Meadowlarks Poems | Examples

THINGS CHANGE

New day dawn palms up 
After the dark
Bird's praising God sparrows, robin's and meadowlarks 
Early spring new day air 
Whispers In my ear

Selah 
For His purpose Glory Hallelujah

Things change 
Things change 
In abundance for abundance 
Radiant 
Things change 
Things change 

All new, renewed 
In Jesus name 
Things change

4/16/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025

I Could Sit Here

I Could Sit Here”

I could walk along this sandy shore.
Crashing waves to and fro.
Sandpipers chirping,
Seagulls circling,
White sails sailing. 
I could sit here for a while.

I could hike this rocky trail.
Relish the splendor of snowcapped peaks
Bathe in an icy brook
Cast a line without a fly
Bull elk braying in the meadow below
I could sit here for a while

I could lie in this meadow of green,
As Meadowlarks sing their prairie songs.
Powder-puff clouds away up high. 
A Light breeze cools my brow.
Golden sunset paints the sky.
I could sit here for a while.

I could swing you to and fro
Watch you glide up to the sky.
Your gleeful laughter makes me high. 
You are the sunshine in my eye,
The brightest pearl in my life.
I could sit here for a while.

Howe Meadow ITQ

Written: January 22, 2024
            _________________________________________

I hear the wild cry as I sleep,
no roaming goats or gulls or sheep.
Tire them out, no trace of dread sweep,
seamless grass is combed by reap.

I heard the humpback cry whale site,
before the day turned into night.
Hunt for krill, girls, and young scouts fight,
boys, singing, as one, of raw dight.

Meadowlarks wave wings in the breeze,
hunt flies in the sun, fly with bees.
Breathe fresh air as lowly birds tease,
tweet, and perch on red tussock trees.

Meadow wrens chirp as streams dry out,
fly high to low till storms cross route.

Prairie Time

Alone on the prairie, time will gently slip,
‘til minutes and hours start to lose their grip.
Can’t measure the day by a clock’s turning hand,
but by the sun, the stars, the clouds, and the land.
	
By how long it takes for a bee to float by,
or a hawk to soar across the open sky.
A black thunderstorm to roll over the plain,
or a groundhog to pop up after a rain.

By watchin’ a deer as it bounces away,
or seeing two eagles in the sky at play.
A bison to graze, or an elk take a drink,
seems the prairie can change as quick as a wink.

But you'll soon realize the land didn’t change,
still a sea of green 'cross a wide open range.
Speckled with wildflowers that dance with the breeze,
to the tune of wind blowing through Aspen leaves.

Yeah, on the prairie you can lose track of time,
but the Pronghorn and Sage Grouse don't seem to mind.
Robins and meadowlarks will sing you their tune,
while you watch as the sun turns into the moon.

Eagle

I guess the winter is finally here,
The cold wind has started howling,
The trees have abandoned their green covers,
The meadowlarks have abandoned their favorite posts.

When I walk around in the meadows,
There is absolute silence,
the deer and fauna are long gone,
There are empty nests all around.

High above in the sky, the eagle soars,
Flies in circles, high and low,
Its elegance of majesty and freedom is in the air to show,
Its sky-high soaring makes nearby mountains feel so low.

Sometimes it lands on the tall meadow tree,
Takes a bird's eye view of all its preys,
It does not like my old tired body,
It swirls over my head and shoots up high.

Skylarking

Winds bell-ring the tulips.
Racoons hang lazily from eaves
watching the watched.
Barns are bent into rafts of moss,
an age shedding green
gathered by crow-footed wanderers.
All is a montage of one single facet
of day-sprung now.


Meadowlarks slip through their own songs
I unlimber my gray sticks
and stride,
my piecemeal mind mended and alight
with a bright-eyed flowering.

Spring clambers over my bones
to chase the wagging tails of
barking dogs,
sunshine gallops along a paddock fence
casting a mirage of painted flickers.

Hard to be anything less
then my best idea this day.
I search for a notion, a reason, a why,
only to be scooped-up
by a flock of fleet sparrows,

their small brown wings going nowhere,
yet all of us flying inside a sky-lifting joy.

'dead To Rights' - a Love Poem

'Dead to Rights!'
'Dead to rights' says I love you, no 'deed' makes you mine!
Love's a gift born each second, there's no valentine,
no shared thought (need that's met) . There's no poem to write
or a dream one must hide. Love's a high-flying kite
with a breeze on its side: It's a meadowlarks' song!
How's a promise believed that would make right (what's wrong?)
Where's your proof God's not real, that our death's not a door,
that one's heart's not their soul, and our sky's not God's floor?

'Dead to rights' means I love you! Grant rhythms (sea's voice),
time-smashed rhymes (sun-bright shells) on a beach of our choice
which waves salt as they break, shells whose colors float soft
on white sea froth, in reach: motion's fragrance so waft
(through the air) it might teach a lost soul how to smile!
Are these dreams a mistake? Have I shipwrecked on guile?
May the freedom we live in suggest we're on track,
and the love that we treasure be, "I've got your back!"


KK7
January 17, 2023

A Heavenly Rest In Peace

“Perching on a fencepost, the meadowlark calls in sweet trilling tones like a solo marimba.” L. Milton Hankins

The meadow lark happily sits along the fencepost singing away
and watches as Milton appears all aglow and here to stay
God’s creatures gather around to watch this beautiful scene
In this heavenly place where it’s forever peaceful and serene

He awoke to the faint sounds of meadowlarks singing under the sun
As peaceful feelings envelope, his pain is gone, realizing he has none 
The air is warm and fragrant of fresh summer flowers in bloom
As he smells a familiar scent getting closer, his late wife’s perfume

He hears her voice coming closer and she appears at his side
She tells him he has crossed over and reunited with his bride
He feels tears of joy and peace knowing they're now reunited 
and realizes he's crossed over to heaven, so happily delighted

The meadowlark joyfully sings on the fencepost singing his tune
As other birds join in a welcoming serenade to Milt as they croon

I Want To Be a Writer

I want to be a writer 

some way, someday, somehow.

I want to be a writer

Living in the eternal, ever-after now. 



Alive as anyone can be 

through words made thoughts alive.

I want to be a writer 

Like meadowlarks sing and fly. 



I only need some reason

To manipulate my pen.

Up, down and all around

To light my soul within.



Let me leave a trace behind

A letter, poem or phrase

That I was here and did my best

Before I reach that cold, dark grave. 



No need to call me good or great

I know my faults run deep

Farther down than light and sound

Where soon my soul shall sleep.



Let me leave for you a message

In a bottle, floating 'round

Where the essence of my humanity

Might someday still be found. 



Saying nothing more than "I was here"

And lived, loved and laughed

And nothing beats true love and friends

And sweet memories of one's past.

   

So let me be a writer now

If but only in a dream

God, let me have this one small gift  

To know the ghost in me.

Meadowlarks

meadowlarks

meadowlarks return
 new songs fill the meadows...
  forests swing and sway

3/14/22
Contest Bird Haiku
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables.com

I Am Lin

I have the touch of viking in me
The spirit of the wild and free
I am the waterfall cascading
Across all nordic kingdom

My sovereignty undenied
I render lush abundance
Assuring joy to a parched land
Pride and glory to its clan

I am the gurgling source of life
That will not ever wither
I am Lin of the winds
The goddess of the meadows

I bring forth springtime’s magic
And the song of meadowlarks
I am Lin who hails from lands of reverie
Of the many crosswinds I am Lin               



Read on air by invitation  ~  January 9, 2022  'POETS HARBOUR'

AP: Honorable Mention 2021

Posted on July 25, 2021

That Kind of Day

That kind of day I should be outside in the sun
Enjoying the sweet scent of the flowers,
The brilliant rays of the warming sun on my face
Listening to the trills of the yellow meadowlarks,
And getting the sorely-needed exercise I deplore.
Such riches Mother Nature provides to explore,
Rediscovering the long-forgotten trail landmarks
Remembering fun I had with Queen Anne’s lace,
Dreaming of climbing high among ivory towers
Days long ago when almost everything was fun.


Written June 15, 2021

A Bird's Paradise - POTD

Wintry days were turning mild.
After the harsh stormy days.
     Still not a sound could be heard
     Except the hammering of posts
As I prepared the bird feeders.
Surely it was time for their return.

Yet not a sound could I detect that evening.
So I filled the feeders with delicious seed
And went for my usual long night sleep.

     But with dawn I was wide awake
     For then the garden began to fill with song.

Two male scarlet tanagers settled on an oak 
On the other side of the street.
     I was thrilled even though 
    Their song sounded a bit hoarse.
Bluebirds sang a lively tune 
As they fed on worms.

But what pleased me most 
Was to see two meadowlarks,
     The male feeding the female 
     As she sat on an old nest.
This spring was full of promise. 

A bird’s paradise.

20 February 2021

Spring Birds Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France


POTD
Placed 1

Emily's Hiatus

In my days of wonder
War was just a concept
Peace was like a shadow
Creeping on my lawn

Love was like a fire 
On a sleepy morning 
When the snow is falling
Tapping at my door

In my youth I loved him 
Like I loved the Springtime
Flowers in the sunshine
Pebbles on the shore

He was sad but gentle
Like a weeping willow
Teardrops on my pillow
Meadowlarks at dawn

He began to tell me
Of his love for Autumn
Leaves like golden rainbows
Splashing in the sun

We were fond of breezes
Shadows in the desert
Crystal lakes on mountains
Dollars in the sand

In this time of loving
Winds of war were rising
Like a cyclone sweeping
Everything in sight

Still we never noticed
When we were together
Anything more frightful
Than a fairy tale

In our fields of clover
Honeybees were buzzing
Clouds were gently marching
In a light brigade

Like the trees in winter
Shed of summer foliage
Sorrow came to find us
Knocking at our door

For the sake of duty
And misguided notions 
Peaceable devotions
Took my love away

In his gentle meekness
Love is my hiatus
Amber waves of sunshine 
Reap a scarlet sky.

Dated:  February 8, 2021

Whose You-

Who's you
I come across the Shadows
I look Beyond the walls
Voices howling in the dark
Walking from The Gallows
Who's you
Sounds of Mystic bouncing balls
Insects crawl being eaten by meadowlarks
Heart to be heard
I'm so sorry
No longer crying in the dark
No longer surprised in awe
Beyond doubts what's this what's that
Who's You


12/30/20
Written word by James Edward Lee Sr

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