Response to response (For Liz)
'Twas I that sent the meadow lark,
On open wings into the dark.
To set upon the weathered post,
With a message from this host.
'Twas not a song of warbling bird,
But my spirit that you heard.
Given in the meadowlarks cry,
To tell you how I pine and sigh.
I sent it on the mornings breeze,
A serenade, a songs appease.
To know the truth of what I felt,
Before the morning dew could melt.
To tell you of my idealize,
To help you come to realize.
The message that ensnares the wind,
Can never ever be exscind.
This spirit circles only you,
It only sings of what is true.