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Skylark

In the hollow of my boyhood days
troubles would just melt away
in those summer mornings
in my lazy field

Bound for mass I would be late
for I'd lie there and contemplate
the lark that sang as a
lonely church bell peeled

That summer there and more to pass
in my favourite place in the long soft grass
forgetful of the world
and all its pain

I'd watch him soar till I could not see
as his music fell and covered me
with notes that were so soft
a silver rain

I wished that I could fly like him
so high above this earthly rim
connected still to everything
yet knowing I was free

A bond between us one might say
to me at least it seemed that way
for as he flittered rose and sang
I flew into reverie

I imagined once that I could know
just how he saw the world below
(to a bird a shrinking habitat?)
to a lad a green and rolling sea.

Now as this man thinks of that boy
in nature's shawl those moments' joy
I remember too that little bird
who shared his song with me.


 
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