The Maiden and the Nightingale
A mesmerizing picture that burns in my memory
Leaving me to pick up the pieces, strewn about by
a gathering breeze of Poetic illusions
The Maiden, sitting alone, waiting perchance for
the sweet sounds of the Nightingale, that fall
from the sky on a quiet eve
As the Nightingale appears before her, the Maiden
morphs into his mate
Together, in flight, they wing on his song to the
Ethereal realm of Peace and Tranquility
Nesting forever, in a Song for Two
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