Awoken in flight
up yonder and sing.
The lark of the morn
on song and a wing.
To hover on high,
arise and rejoice.
Oh joyous your song,
the morning in voice.
The dawning in verse
your music has stirred
the light of the day
on wings of a bird.
O’er farmer and field,
o’er shepherd and herd.
The song of the lark,
the morning is heard.
A prince of the sky
a singing with glee.
The lark of the morn,
good morning to thee.
-
Author:
Tony Grannell (
Offline) - Published: July 17th, 2025 05:20
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Priya Tomar
Offline)
Comments2
Tony this brings back memories of childhood, times carefree, Clean air, early morn on fields dirt trails, ant hills and grasshoppers in the foxtails. An old apricot tree that belonged to no one but us kids where we parked our tree house. I hear that same lark now too but it brings back those memories. Thanks for the memories Tony
Beautiful !
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.