Nightingale's Song Poem by Wendy Bureau

A single dove soars of Nightingale's song
Circling such a delicate sight of flight
Whilst once, oh how thine heart did long
Saddened, no love doth it beat, this night

For no more truer, than truth is most pure
Misery of lover's, shall know no bounds
Although mine very heart speaks most sure
Fated destiny lies 'pon foreign grounds

A path of intricate, unique design
Created for wander, amongst the bloom
Inhaling with each step, wisdom of time
Withered beneath a falsehood of passion's gloom

With each stride, yet another tear falls like rain
Ne'er shall I deny, nor shall I deceive
Thine heart has cried it's own lake of pain
Then swam the hurt, in order to grieve

And so the dove soars of Nightingale's song
Gliding 'pon the breath of lover's exhale
Resilience of the heart, carries along
Endless love, Aphrodite's fairytale