Lori Reflects

A friend and a Lark since 2000 Lori has been a Meadow mainstay. Here are her words and songs of heart.

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I met Joyce online when I first got on the internet in 2000. In fact, the Meadow was one of the first poetry boards that I ever posted on. Sometimes, Joyce and I would send IMs back and forth and talk about life in general as well as poetry. I felt as though I knew her through her words and wished that I had the chance to meet with her face to face.

It's so sad to lose a great poet, a great role model and a great friend all at once. I hope she knows how special we all valued her and I hope that she is now at peace.

We will meet someday...

My thoughts and prayers are with her family, friends and fellow Larks

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Winter in the Meadow

Winter has frozen this vast, little meadow
The lark has coughed his last song.
Summer sun but a memory faint and yellow
oh, this winter's seduction has been long.
Limbs have bowed beneath the weight of ice
like burdens their poor hearts can't take.
And when the snowdrifts equal great mountains,
Friends, that's when something must break.

Now, this dear meadow is fading to white
and the songs and the words will start to fade.
We wish the caretaker a safe onward journey-
grateful for the friendships she's made.
Fly little meadowlark, shrill your song now.
Shake off the hurt and all the snow.
Fly little meadowlark, stretch your wings now.
Though saddened, I'll open my heart's hands and let you go.

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Dedication

In life, I did not know her...
Not her face nor her voice.
I knew her through poetry...
The poet's name was Joyce.

I remember instant messaging
when we saw the other was online.
When someone exists as text...
You think that all you have is time.

I never questioned the ending of words
through e-mail nor in her poetic form.
I always thought I'd see her in her Meadow
because that was just the norm.

I'm saddened that God stepped down
and sent his angels through the sky
to pick up one special meadow lark...
His reason was not to question why.

I still look for her in the meadow
hoping that I may catch just a glimpse
of that name I've come to know
and of the person whom I will miss.

In Memory of Joyce

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"I live and breathe, yet never take either for granted.."