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Meadow Lark

Meadow Lark

Going down in flames.

Tag: writing

I threw away my list.

I've always been that funny shaped piece That never fit quite right Squeezing myself into spaces That were always much too tight. I wondered why I am like this? Why can't I just conform? Shape myself to the walls around me And mold myself to the norm. I thought I must be faulty Surely something … Continue reading I threw away my list. →

meadowlarkblog poetry 2 Comments December 29, 2021 1 Minute

A Brand New Era.

The edge of the night began to fade into oblivion, performing a disappearing act as it faced the new light of the morning that began to overpower the sky. It was the first day after the long dark of the solstice. The first day that every day would begin to grow a little bit brighter. … Continue reading A Brand New Era. →

meadowlarkblog prose 2 Comments December 28, 2021December 28, 2021 1 Minute

The Sacred Task.

There she was in all her gloryStanding tall as she was fairWearing ribbons that seemed to flowWith the movement of her hair. Her voice was soft and effortlessLike how the wind slips through the treesAs she spoke to reconnect meWith my hearts most sacred dreams. Her presence was like an oceanBottomless depths of spaceOf love … Continue reading The Sacred Task. →

meadowlarkblog poetry 1 Comment December 27, 2021December 28, 2021 1 Minute

Wildflower.

Her spirit was like wildflowersThe way they scattered freely over the plainWith no rhyme or reasonThey just grew wherever the wind decided to blow.

meadowlarkblog poetry 1 Comment December 27, 2021December 28, 2021 1 Minute

1111.

Last night in my dreams I flew to a place where I knew that I would find you. I think that you could feel me there as suddenly you looked up with hungry eyes that searched the room, like a starving child looking for scraps. Have I made myself too obvious? But there I was … Continue reading 1111. →

meadowlarkblog poetry 3 Comments December 27, 2021December 28, 2021 1 Minute

Defector.

It was difficult to say where the lines met between the ending of one chapter and the beginning of the next. I found myself on the precipice of something that had only just begun to unfold, like the first breath of a fresh spring breeze with a note of curiosity in the air of things … Continue reading Defector. →

meadowlarkblog prose Leave a comment December 26, 2021December 28, 2021 1 Minute
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