Janet Mary Zylstra

(1963 / London, England)

Night Song


There's a nightingale singing from a tree in the woods
And his voice slices through the chilly air;
The silver coated fox stops and listens to the song
As she pokes her pretty nose out of her lair.

Heaven is adorned with a thousand snowflake stars;
Not a cloud mars the deep and limpid sky.
The silver coated fox slips away on silent paws
And the shadow of the moon is in her eye.

Like a silver coated arrow she shoots across the fields
As the nightingale sobs his lonely tale,
And his silver noted voice drifts across the sleeping woods
To be heard by his mate down in the vale.

There's a nightingale singing from a tree in the vale
And her voice slices through the chilly air;
The silver coated fox stops and listens to the song
As she makes her silent way back to her lair.

Submitted: Friday, October 29, 2004

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