Song of the Skylark

randomness in poetry, as per usual

As autumn skies fade away,
from blue to pink, pink to orange, and orange to night,
the skylark can be heard;
a voice so melodious, so pure
it sings to sing of beauty true, and beckons love its way

Above the trees, its voice does sing,
and its song brings to us the coming winter,
showing how soon is the seeming endless sleep,
and with its song the breeze seems colder;
we gather together, body to body, warmth for warmth,
pressing away the cold and chill, our breath on our hands

As a breeze passes o'er us, the bitterness of smoke sets,
a flavor dancing upon our tongues
a bitterness that could bring the joy of home;
closer approaching we see our homes of wood and earth,
closer approaching are our loved ones.

The rich scent of baking bread, roasting meat,
dinner wouldn't be long yet,
and weary as we are, we are glad to finally find home.

Reviews

[Desert Dreamer]

Reminds me of childhood days spent wandering out into nature, and coming home at nightfall for dinner. I feel as if I am walking down a path out of the woods, hungry and cold after walking all day, to see the welcoming sights, sounds and scents of home.