Song Of The Meadowlark Poem by John Leroy Maxwell

As you, perched atop a patchwork of green foliage
I am captured by the strange beauty of your song
The music glides and ebbs, rises and falls, being
moved by the whims of the wind
The gay flutter of your voice creates surreal motifs
in the aural chambers of my mind
And savors the beauty of the natural world
Thou song for me, dost set me free, and fills my
thoughts where e'er I be
Peace and serenity to me it brings, in natures Realm,
as the Meadowlark sings