The Eurasian lark is from the 'lark' family, 'Alaudidae.' The male song is performed at height of 160ft to 330ft, so you can see why it is so decadent. If there were no birds in the sky I think the seas would dry up, the sun wouldn't shine and there would be no tears left to cry (the saying). A skylark in the hand is worth a poor mans handful of sparkling crystalline with a blinding shaft of scintillating light.
The picture to the left is of a Eurasian lark. It is very distinctive and to me it has the look of a continental bird, a foreigner to the British Isles even though we do have skylarks in the UK. It looks a bit regal, smart and no nonsense. It is thought that the males have a broader wing span because the females prefer birds who can hover, sing and circle for longer to symbolise fitness and good mating attributes. The males song is trill and loud, almost like a whistling sound, it is very pleasing to hear this bird sing because you will feel like it is summertime and and want to take of your jacket and stroll at a slow pace and let the breeze hit your face.
The skylark, the bird of wonder. The name just captivates me why I wanted to call my second book by this name. It occurs to me that they are free, the epitome of nature and of birds themselves. I don't know if this bird is called so because the word lark incorporated in the name is because their song is so dainty and happy. I know the Latin for 'lark' is lauda. It is a widespread bird found in Europe and the Palearctic. There are populations now in the Australia and Hawaiian Islands. These birds are known for the male song but both sexes look very similar, brown flecked head, neck and wings and a white breast. I find it very fascinating that their crest is raised when excited or alarmed, this can also be a reason. It is a small bird of the passerine species and they are all the more precious because their numbers have been declining since the 70's. There is a lot of natural beauty in this bird also because of the colours, brown and white. I imagine one in my hand and I just tingle and feel warm inside
The Mademoiselle Skylark
The Mademoiselle skylark
She preens so angelically and is the diamond find on the River Thames shore of the Maritime mudlarks
She is so opulent, she is like the high tea of Fortnum and Mason department store
The Boin Taburet service that shines and welcomes Her Royal Highness Princess Diana's ghost through the door
The skylark
She is a mademoiselle of a calibre
Her beauty is of Rhianna's, her skin a deep velour rouge, shade of Manilow's grand piano sound of her sister, the woodlark
The ebony keys play a melody with the disciples choir of a festival in the heavens crystal waters of Hera
The skylark
She whispers a reassuring dulcet air of the Archangel Gabriel
Be soothed my caramel, sugar and spice of the Seine River cruise right the way through the Arc De Triumph
The liner sails us to the enchanting Champs De Elysees Western edge of Place Charles De Gaulle
The skylark
The picture perfect frame of the precious one of the Lear siblings
The sweetest daughter of the King held dear to his lionheart
The girl with the pearl earring, she captivated and charmed a crimson poopy field, the epitome of the crown jewels
The skylark
Mary's promise to Jesus
I will see you again my treasured of sons, you will be hailed as the Messiah through the halls of the holy divinity of the doveline aves charts
When the clouds freeze over and the rains dries up, I will catch your fall, you were always the baby of my immaculate dreams
The skylark
Fly to the universe and Star wars coruscant landscape border to come back to me
Our cherished bond is as it was always meant to be as you settle in my palm
I love you little skylark, in the night, the afternoon dusk of orange, yellow and amber, and the sunset of Whitsuns
The Skylark - The Eloquence Of The Bird
The skylark angel bird of elegance - as she flies she graces the empyrean skies
The bird is grace, a holy prince and princess chase
She sees all the romance, her head is a primrose daffodil that bends and chants
She swims in the pollen breeze and echoes to the bullfinch darting in and out of the trees
His song is a magnet to her chantilly lace aria of the finest octave
The children look up wide eyed, ooh and ahh and want to capture her heart in a cage to adore before the curtain closes for the night
The skylark, the heavens choir, a tambourine of finesse she lays in Mary's boudoir
The babe is asleep and the angel bird's breath tingles and covers his face, comforting his gypsophelia cherubs weeps
The night is silent, the darkness is harking, the angel bird of the blue yonder flies out of the taffeta lined window
She will return to calm, soothe and lull the bairn to slumber come the end of daylight sunbeams of midsummer
