My Resting Place~28 August 2014

Even Song

The evening breezes,
Whispering trees, murmuring wind.

Meadow grasses rise and roll.

In waves the rolling clouds fly past,
As meadow larks sing their last
In gentle twilight glow.

To end their day in song
Softly fades the tune away
In Darkness.
                  Still.
                                             Then gone.
…Written 08 June 1987 bt R.G. Fowler of Blessed Memory
(Meridel’s Younger Brother)

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