Short Meadowlark Poems

meadowlark
warbling sweet melodies
a rare treat for me...

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absence

meadowlark takes flight
a hawk trills up in the sky~
lone wings pleased a sky

2023 January 30...

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Strapping on my goggles
       I was hoping to see Meadowlark

     But every time I toggled
       All I got was Meta-lark...

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a witch and a pet aardvark

broom to an amusement park

with a mic in hand

and dave brubecks band

warble a strange meadowlark.
...

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A butterfly wings,   
A meadowlark sings,
A brown, barefoot boy,and a brook--
The buzz of a bee,
A pink apple tree,
A girl in its shade, with a book....

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yellow meadowlark
offering sweet melodies
atop a fencepost
my mood suddenly lightened
I stroll toward the woodland 

Written May 23, 2022...

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A salty rol
 a tender soul
a timid heart 
Aloft as a meadowlark
Fly away spirit fly,  away heart 

5/23/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021...

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meadowlark singing
happy songs early in morn ~
cheery yellow notes

FIRST PLACE WINNER
written August 12, 2021
for “Songbird Haiku” Poetry Contest
by Tania Kitchen
Syllables checked by PS Syllable Counter...

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After spring’s deluge,

dawn rains down with brilliance as

the meadowlark trills.

Long ribbons of pastel hues

form an arc across blue sky.


March 6, 2022
for M. L. Kiser's Springtime Beauty Tanka Poetry Contest Poetry Contest...

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the lake where they hid
a memory

their song
sublimated

a cattail beaten
remnants taken by wind

a semi roars past
someone calls progress

someone says
ninety percent chance of rain

someone says
dance barefoot through puddles

a murder of crows shadows skies
someone looks to the sun

the sun reflects
faceless waters
...

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Wonderful dawn

Spider webs glisten
with droplets of dew,
geraniums facing the sun

Still all my thoughts
are directed at you,
you are my beautiful one

A meadowlark singing
her wonderful song,
welcoming everything new

While on this day
in this wonderful dawn
I say good morning to you

Good morning Soupers...

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A walk in the dark
A meadowlark
By me she flew
And asked, “Who are you?”

A curious query
I did not know really
A question so profound
In my mind I went around and around

The dark got darker
The night became blacker
What is this journey?
What is this query?

Upon me came the power of Zen
And then
It hit me
Nothingness is the answer to that query...

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A darling song is sung;
Meadowlark
A new day has begun;
She allowed me to say;
Sway in the dark
She made me parade;
Her vision was distorted;
Eyes focus on tree bark
Her mind aborted;
Her darling spirit;
Fires transformed from sparks
Has flown away, and now I'm not near it;

2/14/2022
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©...

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HIDDEN   BEAUTY 


Mystery in  the  wood dark
With clear sky peeping through
What does the next path hide?
What  will the leaves reveal?


Song  from a meadowlark?
Deep  lake   velvet  blue?
But   the breeze has  sighed
And tries  to  all conceal -


I must try to closer  hark
Before I sadly say adieu
To my unravished sylvan bride
And  a  farewell  glance I steal....

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Dark;Dark;flick:the contrast  is stark
Domain and shadows are ever turning gray
They will soon outlive their stay
Form,and color slowly give way
Wait,I wait for that suns first ray.
The sound is that of a meadowlark
He is bidding farewell to the passing of dark
Could it be?Oh could it,be the first ray?
The window catches it,andkeeps it at bay
It will catch as many as it can and make them stay 
It enters its job for the day...

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The trill of the Nightingale 
Reminded me of sleep—
As my mind began its wandering 
Through a vale of downy sweep.

And I became a Poet,
In my imagistic style—
Sharing tea with Emily,
If only for awhile.

Then the stars became as diamonds,
A billion-one, or two—
As I became a richer man,
If only for the view.

Till there interposed a Meadowlark,
As Emily would say—
My mind no longer wandering,
As began a snowless day!...

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Welcome loneliness my old friend,
to mark the hours emptiness sends

In the middle of the cold and dark,
the vanishing call of a last meadowlark

leaving me stranded,
deep in the well

Counting the minutes where time has conspired,
lusting for something whose clock has expired

This silence a chorus of Angels on mute,
promising nothing, all vows to refute

left and abandoned
—deserted in hell


(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)...

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See her in the flowers,
that she walks by everyday,
listen to the meadowlark,
and what he has to say.

Feel the Earth that's turning,
so your heart can be set free,
see these words are burning,
written hastily by me.

Leave behind the hardship,
the bitter clouds of woe,
follow down your family,
where your seeds will surely grow.

Seek the book for guidance,
may the Lord now take your hand,
no need to strive for perfect,
for your heart he'll understand....

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Chantelle Anne is my poetic friend,
our friendship will never ever end;
we both like poems quite dark,
she is my own meadowlark ...
and I pray our lives will always blend !

____________________
April 08, 2022


Poetry/Limerick/My Forever Friend
Copyright Protected, ID  04-1446-386-08
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance LaFrance

Tribute to Chantelle Anne Cooke

Written for the Standard contest, Paean On Poets
sponsor, Margarita Lillico, Judged 06/17/2022...

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On a truant stroll did embark
Amorous libertine on a lark
Half past eight, almost dark
Chance encounter in the park
Whimsical glance hit the mark
Scintilating essence; a meadowlark
Glowing eyes radiated a spark
Glimmering lips lust did earmark
Craven, black hair so sleek, so stark
Bleating bosom her beaconing bulwark
Cleavage mapped by tight, clinging sark
Hips slithering along like a careening shark
Silken nylons her sensuous trademark
Writhing, to her milky nectar I did hark...

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The periwinkle petals closed
As daylight turned to dark--
And nighttime fell like dampened silk,
To hush the meadowlark.

While the Talmud--and the holy words;
The violins, and song--
Fell silent in the midst of dark
Seeming out-of-place, or wrong.

And faith became a memory,
Like love's first gentle kiss--
The most dear of all possessions
Was the one most sorely missed.

For God had been the guiding light,
So the rituals, and wine--
But the Cantor was bereft of song...
T was the night of '39....

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