The Nightingales Song

The days complexion faded sweet

Where the nights fine wit rests within its golden shadows,

Heavens hands has sculpted love as fair as beauty’s brow.

And the nightingale from on a lofty bough holds his rank,

Dispersing that tender note received by natures hear.

She is my divining angel, may I behold her rays, or none, and be not twain,

Like a lovers honey breath with beauty to rare for this versal night.

Beneath the stars serenely bright,

So sweet a poem made,

Where laurel groves, hold in honor,

My hearts rich endowments,

And sustain my love in fair array.

Beyond a poets mother art and a romantics faith,

The very hour that parent star became my twinkling host.


Copyright (c) Kevin Brian Wright 2008


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Synopsis
The days complexion faded sweet Where the nights fine wit rests within its golden shadows, Heavens hands has sculpted love as fair as beauty’s brow.
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