The Skylark (Alauda Arvensis) high Above The Ripening Corn their Song Salutes The Coming Dawn Poem by john (called jack) wren

Hanging high in the air, just a dot
A cloud a blowing wind forgot,
Wings moving in excessive haste
Eyes watching the meadow waste,
Above green meadow and furrowed fields
Your song awakes, the silence yields.
Descending through cloud, hovering in flight,
Warbling sweet for our delight.
Wary of the tillers wayward plough
And the clumsy hoof of a fickle cow,
Or the foot of a wandering passer by
Who looks on your presence in the sky.
Like a startled child you glance about
Hoping your sanctuary will be stout
And the eggs inside will be firm
Until the time of your return.
I look upon you as a friend
And will defend you till the end
Long may you sing, spirit of the sky,
Long may your song, make us sigh.