The Nightingale's Lilly Poem by Anhelica Velasqsuez

In the night shielded and obscure,
everyone listened to Amor
as he sung his lay,
that to none could it compare

Because only the nightingale's song
brought peace to mortal intention
and led them to rest there,
giving way to all thought and care

Even though most slept
still he got praise, and recompense
his heart filled with pride
but still he was sad

For he still had yet to appease,
his first and only love,
the apple of his eye,
she who understood, more than enough

There were none like her
for she was truly perfect
never had he saw her bloom
but still he knew,

that if only she were to speak,
her voice would be so gentle,
her dreams would be brilliant,
and only she could make him
stop his tune, to listen in hope of a whisper

**
What the little bird didn't know
was that hiding in the grass
she listened to his compositions
afraid to complement them
and that he was what made her glow

the Lilly of the Valley
knew every hymn and song
by heart, and cherished every one
and quietly she hummed along

secretly she admired him
if only she could gain the courage,
to speak out and openly adore,
but how could she?

how could she express
that his song was as handsome as he?
that he made her tremble as she listened
and dream of his wings, and soulful eyes,
as soulful as his notes so sound..

no she could never,
after all, how would she compare
to the others around her
so bold and so fair,

But one night he sung with such sorrow
she peeked up from the grass,
it was just before dusk,
and it seemed he looked strait at her

'Atlas, it seems she will forever ignore me
never shall i witness her peaceful bloom
she will never be peaceful before me
and so my heart full soul fills with doom,

i fly with wings of lead,
as my broken heart weighs it down
i shall cease to sing as long
as its pieces are bound

and they can only be freed
by her, she is who i need
i grow so lonely in this place
even as i am surrounded

i desire what everyone desires
a love, a love that never tired
and until it, i can acquire
silent i shall stay, until she is nay'

**
Not a soul took heed of his song
for none understood
and so restless they became
and sleepless they stayed

the young's dreams turned to nightmares
and desperate their parents became
they begged and pleaded
but still not a tune did he play

he refused to sing, ransomed his voice
no one could comprehend why,
and when they asked, he told them true
and stated, 'Lilly, all i desire is you...'

all he asked for was her praise
but still, he supposed she was too shy
and hid within his mother's oak
awaiting the day, when his love spoke

When it was clear he would never sing again
and the Valley tearfully mourned their loss
of peaceful slumber, under his voice,
they started to leave, his silence had cost

Remembering his last warble,
the lily, she decided to confront him
and bring back the peaceful
and delightful sound

at her words he looked up, startled,
'did you speak to me about my tune? '
disbelief and hope filled his voice
'if i sung it, they wouldn't listen,
they never truly did, neither would you..'

'of course i listen, ' she assured
we all do, we enjoy the tunes sung by you,
but your mournful lay, has brought sadness,
please, sing for the ones that stay'

tears filled his eyes,
she was doing this for them,
he didn't really love his songs
and if she did, she didn't love him.

'why should i?
I'd still be alone,
the one i love, will never love them
i can will never have real hope'

'sing for those of us who still believe
that your music is true
that no one can sing, as beautiful as you
i apologize that i haven't glorified it sooner,

but shyly i did listen to your melodies,
please, if you will not sing for them...
sing for me? By heart and soul
i know every note...'

He turned his head away
unsure of what was safe to think
He longed that her words were true
but she was a fair flower,

what attention would she really
pay to such a small and selfish bird?
'is it true that you miss it? really, do you? '
and then and there he heard

the breeze swept away her hum
the first hymn, he had ever sung
he whipped his head around
and immediately he echoed the sound

then and there the first Lilly bloomed
in the mid of May, undercover of night
listening to her love, sing his tune, so light
and never again did he ransom his voice

Now if you see the Lilly of the Valley
openly admire her fair bloom,
and know that undoubtedly
you can count on hearing the Nightingale soon

He's always there, in the shadow of night
singing to his true love, and all is light
just wait under the oak and you will see
the joyful Nightingale sing his sweet melody