Short Meadowland Poems

MEADOWLAND OF BROKEN DREAMS

My heart is a weeping Willow Tree
Which cast a shade of gloom on me
In a meadowland of broken dreams
Where nothing is pretty as it seems
For the bluebird ceased his lilting song
To another lane he now belongs
While the mocking bird repeats its chime
Which runs the gamut of my mind...

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Flowers flourish flavoring the field,
wild waifs that wave and whirl and whip
beneath the wind's wanton waltzing ways.
Bucolic bees buzz blooms and sip
sweet sage, sacramental savorings.
A halcyon habitat, a happy home,
for blessing birds and bees and blossoms,
majestic, magical May meadowland, my own.

Copyright, July 6, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson...

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When the leaves are budding on the trees
It is said love blooms in the springtime,
Meadowland critters are going on sprees
When the leaves are budding on the trees,
We hear the soft whisper of the breeze
From our warm hearts we pen a rhyme
When the leaves are budding on the trees,
It is said love blooms in the springtime.

Written March 26, 2022...

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The meadowland is dry and desolate now
Cold and dreary, for it is mid-wintertime
Yet I know vegetation survives somehow
The meadowland is dry and desolate now
Enough for the critters nature will allow
Still, I find the barren fields quite sublime
The meadowland is dry and desolate now
Cold and dreary, for it is mid-wintertime. 

written January 15, 2020...

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These fields were once the green of grass, meadowland nature full.
These streams were once the babbling water working their natural way through.

Now smoke and pain live on this land, stained by blood bone and sinew.
The screams of despair and fear bleed into this soil, death sows its seeds again, again, anew.

War commands with no respect for land or beast, for the nature of this world, the lives of soldiers fighting in the fields, for your children, for me or you....

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